A Bridge Between Broken Hearts
by simplymondler
Summary: London AU. What if the night before Ross' wedding was memorable for a different reason? Instead of having the best night of his life, Chandler had possibly his worst. Mondler (I promise).
1. London Bridge is Falling Down

A Bridge between Broken Hearts

London AU. What if the night before Ross' wedding was memorable for a different reason? Instead of having the best night of his life, Chandler had possibly his worst. Mondler (I promise).

A/N- Ok, I know there's no shortage of brilliant London fics out there but I just love stories set in this time. It may not be the most original but I couldn't get this idea out of my head and I just _had_ to give it a go. Besides, I wouldn't feel like a true Mondler writer without joining the London club!

It's an angsty one (hopefully not too OTT) and may not seem Mondler-friendly at first but trust me… I don't know how to write anything that doesn't have a happy Mondler ending! It's mostly finished so hopefully it won't be too long in-between updates...also, a _massive_ thank you to everyone that cotinues to read and review my ramblings :o)

* * *

Chandler took a long drag on the cigarette, inhaling deeply and savoring the feeling of the smoke as it filled his lungs. He held it for a moment before he slowly exhaled the fumes into the crisp afternoon air.

He stared unseeingly at the rubble and mess that surrounded him; at the remains of the old church that was barely still standing behind it. He heard the constant drone of the distant traffic from the other side of the safety barrier, as people went about their usual Sunday business. They were oblivious to him and his pain. Oblivious to his living hell. They didn't know or care about what he was trying to brace himself for...what he was about to do.

He inhaled again, closing his eyes briefly as the nicotine attempted to relax his overtired, tense muscles and sooth his emotional turmoil. He could do this. No, he _had_ to do this. He had no choice. Ross was his best friend and he was Ross' best man. He had to force himself to walk into that damn church before this damn wedding started and he would. He would force himself to stand there like he was supposed to. He'd stand next to him...and close to her, so close to her; even if it broke his heart that little bit more.

Ross needed him. It wasn't _his_ fault that this had happened. It wasn't anyone's really apart from Chandler's. He couldn't blame any of his friends and he especially couldn't blame _her._ He was the idiot that had fallen in love with his best friend without permission. She hadn't asked him to. He was the one that had broken all the rules and he was the one that now had to face the consequences.

He had to face reality.

The reality that she hadn't chosen him.

Would never choose him.

Why would she?

He took another drag as he shook his head, trying to quiet his self-loathing mind. Last night had been for self-decrepitating thoughts and pity, as would tonight…he was sure of that. He couldn't allow himself to think about it again, not now. Now he had to mentally and physically prepare himself; to make himself strong enough to believe he could get through this.

Soon he would have to stand next to Ross at the front of the church. He'd have to hand him the rings and force himself to smile for the cameras, though he was sure he looked like death. The ceremony wouldn't last more than an hour. He wasn't such a nut job that he couldn't keep a check on his over-whelming emotions for that short amount of time. He'd had his whole childhood to learn how to build his defences and wear emotionless masks. He'd had the whole night to build his walls against this current situation.

After the ceremony he could leave. Miss the meal, miss the reception and just escape this stupid country and start to heal his fresh wounds.

He could do this.

"Hey."

His eyes jolted open as he spun around to face the owner of the voice. He didn't want company; he had retreated into this old cordoned-off courtyard to avoid everyone. However, the shock of seeing his friend was enough to cause him to speak.

"What are you doing here?" he frowned, "I thought you were staying at home?"

It was the first words he'd spoken to anybody in hours, his voice thick and hoarse from lack of use and the continuous cigarettes.

"Well," Rachel sighed, she looked just as lost and empty as he felt, "I realized I'm still in love with Ross and came here with a grand plan to tell him before the wedding."

He frowned, had she only just realized? "Oh," he said stupidly. His focus was still not fully on her; still too caught up in his own tortured thoughts. He watched as she sat on the small wooden bench that was mostly clear from debris.

"But when I got here I saw them together," she continued misty-eyed, "…I realized how in love they are. I can't do that to him, Chandler, I just can't be _that_ woman. So, instead I'm gonna be a guest at their wedding and watch the man I love walk down the aisle and marry someone else."

He could hear her raw pain and what was left of his own battered heart went out to her. He knew that pain, was living through that pain at this very moment. Sure, it wasn't exactly the same. _Her_ Geller was in love, he was hopeful _his_ Geller had just been drunk and wanting sex. 'His' he scoffed at the naivety of his thoughts, she wasn't _his_ and never would be. Especially not now.

He put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled again, glad that Rachel seemed too distracted with her own pain to comment on his smoking. He was sure that there must be some irony that the two of them were having their hearts broken at a wedding. Weren't weddings meant to be joyous occasions? Celebrations of love and relationships?

She sighed heavily and Chandler looked over at her; she was lost in thought. At least she'd been with Ross, had had her chance with him and had memories to think back on. He didn't even have that. His dreams were crushed before they'd even started. They said it was better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. It looked like both sucked.

Finally, he sensed her turn to him. He felt her scrutiny and he was unable to even try to put up any shields to hide his pain; not from a kindred spirit.

"What's going on with you?" she asked curiously, "Why are you hiding out here?"

He _was_ hiding. He didn't even try to correct her on that. He squeezed his eyes shut as visions of last night's nightmare flashed before his eyes in techno-color. He swallowed hard, trying desperately to get a grip on the painful emotions that came flooding to the surface.

"Chandler, what's happened?" he heard her stand and moments later felt a warm hand on his jacket arm, "god, you look awful, what the hell happened?"

"I-"

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– the night before/~_

Chandler sighed as he finished his drink and took one last look around the emptying hotel bar. He didn't recognize anyone anymore, not that he'd known many people to start with. Joey had disappeared, presumably with the other bridesmaid; Ross and Emily had turned-in ready for their big day tomorrow and Monica…she was tucked up safely upstairs in her hotel room.

He hated seeing her like that, so depressed and down. He blamed it partly on her parents for constantly knocking her fragile confidence- couldn't they see what an amazing beautiful woman their daughter had become? He also blamed some of it on that stupid drunk guy that had upset her. How the hell did she look anywhere near old enough to be Ross' mom? What a joke.

But the person he blamed the most was himself.

If he'd had the confidence to tell her that she was perfect in every way. If he'd told her she was the best person he'd ever known. That she was stunning, loyal, brilliant and simply the most amazing woman in his life. If he'd had the guts to tell her that he was so hopelessly head-over-heels in love with her then maybe, just maybe, she'd have felt that little bit better about herself.

Had he? No, because he was a coward. Instead he'd tried to be the best friend he could. He'd offered her a shoulder to cry on, reassured her and not let her get too drunk, or do anything she might regret come the morning. He'd been the perfect gentleman that she'd expect and walked her safely to her door.

Filled with a familiar self-loathing, he left the barstool and headed towards his hotel room. He walked through the bland hallways and stepped into the elevator. It was still early, only coming up to 9.30pm but he was tired. It had been a long day and he was ready to sleep and reenergize for the inevitable long day tomorrow.

It would be worth it though to see Ross get married. He was his oldest friend and although Chandler thought they were rushing into it, he was happy for them. Especially after all the pain Ross had gone through after his first failed marriage; it was nice to see that it hadn't scared him off trying again.

He reached his door and fumbled in his pocket for his keycard. He silently hoped that Joey hadn't brought tonight's girl to their hotel room otherwise he'd be screwed.

He gingerly slotted in the keycard and pushed open the door.

He froze in disbelief.

He couldn't move.

Pain rushed through him, pinning him to the spot.

He couldn't close his eyes, his guts knotting and twisting as his worst nightmare played out in front of him. He heard a horrible distressed sound which possibly came from his own throat. He felt sick and utterly powerless to stop what was happening, what he was seeing.

It was at that exact moment he felt his heart break, shattering into tiny jagged pieces.

* * *

TBC...

I'd love to hear your thoughts...especially as I've never done the whole flashback thing before.


	2. Build it up with Wood and Clay

Present Day:

"Chandler?" Rachel persisted, pulling him from his haunted memories, "Talk to me."

He stared at her for a moment with unseeing eyes before he shook his head. Turning, he took a step away, both distancing himself from her and dismissing her. He took another much needed drag on his cigarette, cherishing the feeling as he deeply breathed in the toxic fumes, letting them consume him. This was his comfort. This was his solace. He felt the heavy weight of the small whisky bottle currently occupying his jacket pocket… _that_ was his other comfort, his other solace.

"What's going on?" Rachel pressed, a frown marring her features. "What happened last night?"

He said nothing for a while, letting the distant traffic noise fill the uncomfortable silence for him. He heard a few birds and watched as they flew carelessly above him, seemingly mocking him with their freedom. God, he wished he had that freedom, wished he could escape from all this.

"Chandler?"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, remaining silent.

"Come on, just tell me what happened last night. What was so bad that you are-"

"Nothing," Chandler lied, swallowing his pain as he interrupted her. He was desperate for her not to finish that sentence. "Nothing happened, Rach, besides you've got enough on your plate."

She was hurting just as badly as he was and he wished she would cut him some slack. He could do without the additional pressure. He didn't cope well with these kind of emotions at the best of times so didn't have a hell's chance of dealing with it right now. He was beyond exhausted both physically and emotionally, and was possibly still a tad drunk. God knows he'd drunk enough alcohol that he should be.

He could feel her eyes on him as he took the last drag of the cigarette before he tossed the butt onto the ground. Part of him got some small satisfaction as he stamped it under his shiny painful shoe, squishing it easily. He stared at it a moment before attempting to kick it away, succeeding only in half burying it amongst the dirt and grit.

It had gone quiet and Chandler was starting to think that she was going to let it drop, that she was going to just let him be. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Very wrong.

"You look like hell," Rachel stated, seeming to want use his problems to distract her from her own. Or perhaps it was true…misery really did like company. "Something must have happened, something big. What is it?"

He shook his head in irritation dismissing her again. He knew he looked like hell. Anyone would after the night he'd suffered. At least he was here though. He hadn't escaped back on the first plane to New York; he hadn't stayed curled up in a pathetic ball in his hotel room and he hadn't kept running until his body had collapsed on some cold alien street. No, he had resisted all those temptations, all his natural instincts to flee and had come here. For Ross.

With a heavy sigh he closed his eyes, trying to forget his anguish but it was impossible. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the torturous images which were now engraved into his mind; no amount of cigarettes or alcohol seemed able to erase them. He had to try though. Had to use any vice he could to get through this. He just had to get through this.

Reaching into his pocket he grabbed out the foreign cigarette packet and selected the next victim. Shoving it roughly between his lips he sparked the mockingly brightly-colored lighter.

"God, just how many of those have you smoked?"

* * *

 _~/Flash-back- the night before/~_

"3 packets of those ones," Chandler pointed to the cigarettes which stood proudly on display, trying to ignore the way his hands and voice shook. "And a lighter and a couple of those small bottles of JackDaniels."

He hoped it would be enough but doubted it. He was still in shock.

The guy in the off-license looked him over briefly before grunting and turning to grab the requested items. Chandler's fingers tapped anxiously on the wooden counter, his knee jiggling with nervous energy as he watched the disinterested man slowly type his order into the till. Chandler quickly handed him some foreign banknotes, watching as the Queen of England's face was held up to a light to ensure she was genuine.

Finally, he was handed some change, which he roughly shoved into his pants' pockets. He watched the man select a hideously bright yellow lighter, chucking it into a plastic carrier bag along with the cigarettes and alcohol. His hopes of getting through this long painful night were contained entirely in one carrier bag. He grabbed for the bag as if his life depended on it.

Out in the crisp air, he anxiously sought out the first packet of cigarettes, ripping off the plastic wrapping and letting it fall unnoticed onto street below. He was desperate for the feeling that only nicotine could provide.

Lighting it with years of practice, he inhaled the first smoke and closed his eyes. He breathed deeply letting it wash over him. He waited for a beat, praying that his old friend would offer an instant impact or at the very least take an edge off the gut-wrenching pain. It didn't. It was still very much there.

Agony, betrayal, bitterness, injustice. He still felt it all.

He stood there alone on the pavement letting the cold night air surround him, as continued to breathe in the poison. He watched as the smoke he exhaled lingered a moment in the bitter air before evaporating into nothing. He had no idea where he was. His feet had carried him out of the hotel as fast as they could. On autopilot he'd walked paying no attention to the route he'd taken; he'd just walked and walked. Through the numbness his instincts had known just one thing- he had to put as much distance as possible between himself and _that_.

Eventually, the adrenaline had worn off and the enormity of what had happened had hit him full force. He'd stopped abruptly, the shock setting in as he'd collapsed onto the curb. So many emotions had rushed through him, each fighting to be noticed. Pain, fear, horror, resentment.

His gut had twisted and he'd felt his body start to shake from the trauma. That's when he'd realized he couldn't do this on his own. He desperately needed something to help, anything to numb the pain. Anything that would make this nightmare a little more bearable. He wasn't strong enough by himself, he knew that much..

He'd gone in search of some sort of vice, finding the small off-license with its flickering neon sign where he currently stood.

He inhaled again, desperate for the nicotine to offer him the comfort he craved but it still refused to help him. Frustrated, Chandler started to walk again, letting his feet guide the way as he heard the light clink of the fragile bottles he carried. He was oblivious to his shoes as they started to rub. He walked and walked, not caring where he went. He hit the Thames and just stared down at the water as the emotions started to come to the surface again and threaten to overwhelm him.

Anger, frustration, jealously, longing.

He stumbled a few steps backwards and crumpled onto an abondoned bench. He sat with his head in his hands as the pain crippled him wave after wave.

Why was life always out to get him? He always said he was used to his screwed up life. He accepted it, got on with it and played the hand he was dealt. But not this time. How could he accept this? He had never expected this cruel twist of fate, hadn't seen it coming. If he'd even had just an inkling that this was on the cards, then he could have spent time preparing in some vain attempt to protect himself and his battered heart.

But he hadn't. He'd been left vulnerable and it had shaken him to his very core.

Why?

Why the hell did it have to be _him_?

A stranger in the night he could have coped with; had coped with several times in the past. Sure it hurt and there was always a sadness but he always got past that. Accepted it and moved on.

But why Joey? Why damn it did it have to be his roommate, one of his best friends? The man he saw every day. How was he meant to move past that? Could he move past this?

Joey and Monica.

Monica and Joey making out, kissing, lips crashing hungrily onto lips, hands tugging at clothes. His hand on her breast.

Letting out a half-strangled sob Chandler dove into the carrier bag and grabbed one of the JD bottles. It was one home comfort; here's to the American spirit. Twisting the cap off viscously his put it to his lips and swallowed. He took a long hard swig, then another and another as painful images of his friends filled his mind.

Why?

Joey always got the girl; he was used to that. Joey was the attractive one and he was the funny one. That's how their relationship worked and he didn't mind it. It honestly didn't bother him about the lack of girls or his hopeless relationships because he'd come to realize something...that he only wanted _one_ girl…and now even _she_ had chosen Joey.

He didn't mind strangers choosing the Italian, hell he expected it. But her? He was closer to her than anybody in the whole world. He was closer to her than Joey was. She knew him better than anyone did, knew the real man underneath that awkward and desperate first impression...and even _she_ had chosen Joey.

 _She'd_ chosen Joey.

God, how could it hurt so much? He desperately drank some more of the whisky before lighting another cigarette. A smoke in one hand, a bottle in the other, sat on a park bench. What a picture. He was pathetic. How had he ever harbored any hope that Monica would want someone like him? That _anyone_ would want him. He had nothing to offer apart from insecurities and inappropriate sarcasm.

His hand shaking he brought the cigarette to his lips and closed his eyes.

He didn't know how but he _had_ to get through this, he _had_ to move past it.

He had no choice.

* * *

A/N- Thank you so much for reading this and for all the reviews. I'll admit I was a little worried that no one would want to read this once you realized what was going on...but as I say, trust me, I'm Mondler to the core ;o) It gets moving a bit more in the next chapter...


	3. Wood and Clay will wash away

Present Day:

Gravely he met Rachel's eyes, seeing the genuine pain and concern there.

"You're not the only one hating London," he finally admitted, walking back over to the bench and taking a seat; cautiously she joined him.

"What happened?" she asked softly.

He took some deep breaths, readying himself to voice his nightmare. To speak the words aloud for the first time and make them real.

"Monica and Joey…" he couldn't bring himself to completely say it but given her gasp he knew she understood.

"Monica and Joey?" She looked shocked but not disgusted. Not as horrified as he had been. "Really? Wow. That's just…crazy…" he felt her look over to him with a confused frown, "but why would that…?"

She was studying him again and not liking it he closed his eyes, his free hand pinching the bridge of his nose to try and ward off the emotions. He could feel the looming headache at the edges of his skull.

"You like Monica?" she said it gently.

He could do nothing but swallow and nod. It was a pointless secret now anyhow; one made redundant by last night's hell.

"Oh, Chandler."

He felt himself being pulled into a hug and he gratefully accepted. Hugging her tightly he clung to her as he allowed himself this brief comfort. Knowing how much she was also hurting, he hoped it was helping her too. They both needed a friend.

Eventually, they pulled apart and Chandler attempted a small smile of thanks but he didn't quite manage to pull it off; it was more a grimace.

"We make quite a pair don't we?" she murmured quietly, her voice void of any humor.

He nodded unable to disagree.

"How did you find out?" she asked curiously.

"I walked in on them last night."

"Oh god," he felt a hand on his knee, "I'm really sorry Chandler. You've been going through this all night? No wonder you look so crap."

"Don't try and sugar coat it will ya," he offered a half-smile to show he didn't mean it. He knew how crap he looked and how crap he felt. "I won't lie, it's been the night from hell."

* * *

 _~/flash-back – the night before/~_

A group of noisy youths walked past, completely ignoring him. Their British accents just emphasizing to him how far away from home he was right now.

Should he try and go home? Get on a plane to New York and leave all his troubles in London. How, he wished it were that simple, that he could run from this but he knew he couldn't. He could never out-run this. It would always be there.

God, he really hoped it was just sex. He'd get over that eventually…possibly...hopefully. But what if it was the start of something more? What if they started a relationship? He knew he couldn't live with that. He wouldn't be able to see them hugging, touching, kissing…he wouldn't be able to listen to _noises_ through the wall.

More importantly though, he couldn't stand the thought of Joey taking his place as her best friend and confidante. That he'd be the one sharing the everyday cuddles, silly talks and secrets. He'd be the one staying up late to comfort her and share her hopes and dreams. He'd be the one she loved.

No, _that_ he couldn't cope with.

Desperately needing to move, he left the bench and walked a fast pace along the river. He'd have to move if they got together, they'd be no other way. He'd have to cut them out of his life, possibly all of them. Otherwise Ross would constantly update him about how they were getting on, oblivious to his misery. What if he got an invite to their wedding? Was asked to be a Godfather to their first kid?

And if she was happy he'd have no right to say anything. No right to do anything to jeopardize that. She deserved to be happy, to be loved. And so did Joey. He was a good guy and she deserved a good guy. He knew Joey would never hurt her.

Did that make it worse? Knowing that she'd picked a decent man? If it was someone who didn't deserve her, someone that was scum then he could hate them. He'd be justified hating them. But as it was Joey he felt guilty even contemplating hating him.

He quickened his pace, almost brutal as he tried to stop his thoughts tormenting him. Life just wasn't fair. Anyone would have thought he'd had figured that out before this. Any hope was now well and truly crushed. He'd learnt his lesson.

When you were praying that the woman of your dreams is _just_ having sex with your roommate. That this has become the best case scenario...you know life is bad.

More people passed him, oblivious to his nightmare. He scowled at the young couple that were practically humping against a lamppost. He didn't want to picture Monica and Joey doing that. He didn't want to picture their sweaty bodies, contorted faces and groans of pleasure.

Angry, he kicked out at an unsuspecting bin, wincing as the pain shot through his foot. He was glad to have the physical pain to focus on, something stronger than the emotional pain even if it was just temporary.

He leaned back against a railing, drinking some more, needing it to start to take effect.

He needed something to get through the night.

 _~/End Flashback/~_

* * *

Present Day:

"Since when have you liked her?" Rachel's voice had a soft sympathetic edge to it, "I'm guessing Joey didn't know? He would never have…got with her if he'd known…"

He swallowed, shaking his head, "no he didn't," Chandler confirmed quietly, "he had no idea. I never told him, or her, and I guess I never will now."

Rachel just stared at him a moment before shaking her head, her hand coming to rest on his arm.

"Honey, you have to speak to them about this."

"Says _you_ ," he raised an eyebrow.

"It's a different situation," she sighed, "I'm not telling him to in order for him to marry Emily and then we'll still be friends afterwards. If I say something it will ruin everything and hurt him and I won't be able to stay friends with him. Yours is the other way around. If _you_ don't say anything now, you won't be able to be friends with either of them."

He swallowed, not liking the truth in her statement.

"Maybe," he eventually sighed.

"What have you actually said to them?" she asked, "how have you left it?"

"I've said nothing to either of them," he admitted.

"Nothing?" she questioned surprised. "How's that even possible?"

"I left in a hurry," he muttered sarcastically through gritted teeth, "I didn't really wanna hang around to watch and score them."

"I didn't mean that," she grated, and he reminded himself she was also in pain and didn't need his sarcasm.

"Sorry," he muttered, scrubbing a hand through his already mussed hair. "I, uh, I haven't seen them today."

"Aren't you sharing a room with Joey?" she asked confusion clearly evident on her face.

"I got another room," he admitted with a shrug.

* * *

 _~/flash-back – the night before/~_

"Another room?" The snooty night receptionist asked, "now?" She pointedly looked at the large clock on the back wall.

"Yes," he grated, trying not to sway and not even attempting to turn and follow her gaze. He knew it was late, or early, depending how you viewed it, "my roommate will have already gone to sleep and I forgot my keycard," he slurred only slightly. "Look I've got my credit card and just want another room. I'll pay for both."

She studied him again, and he tried to look as pleasant and sober as possible. It worked enough as she only shot him one last suspicious look before consulting the computer.

"There's a wedding on so not many rooms available," she informed him arrogantly.

He resisted the urge to point out his smart suit and make a sarcastic comment; he had 'wedding guest' written all over him. Instead he kept his mouth shut, just needing another room. He couldn't face going back to his. No way, he'd rather go back to walking around the dark London streets.

"We have a Superior King Suite," she informed him with more than a hint of condescension in her posh voice, "it's more expensive than your current twin room."

"That's fine," he cut her off, "I'll take it."

He handed her the credit card and waited for her to hand it back to him with a keycard. She gave him directions but his confused brain barely took them in. Mindlessly he walked in the direction she'd pointed. He passed corridor after bland corridor, following the numbers until he reached a door with a number that matched his keycard.

He entered, flicking on the lights as he numbly took in the room. As the door closed behind him he sat on the corner of the bed. He placed his only luggage on bedside table – whiskey, cigarettes and his wallet. He travelled light.

He collapsed back onto the soft mattress and just stared at the ceiling. It spun slightly but nothing too sickening. At least he had a room to hide in now. He wouldn't sleep, he knew that, he wasn't even sure he was going to try. But at least he was somewhere warm and could take off these stupid shoes.

Kicking them off and taking off his tie he grabbed the tv remote. Collapsing back onto the bed he flicked on the television hoping it would offer some distraction to his troubled mind. He found some random documentary and left it playing. He couldn't take it in though, his mind still frantically processing tonight's events despite his overtired alcohol-fuelled body.

He rolled over and sat up slightly to reach his cigarettes and an empty ashtray. He assumed it was a smoking room but as he lit yet another cigarette he really didn't care. The nicotine had started working and he craved more of it. He craved more drink too. He got up and poured the amber liquid into a clear glass and slumped back onto the bed.

With cigarettes and alcohol who needed friends? _Friends_. He closed his eyes. She was meant to be more than a friend with him. How did she not know that? How did she not know she was meant to end up with him and be his happy ever after? Over the last few months he'd thought things were starting to change and the little secret looks and touches they exchanged had more meaning to them. He'd started to actually believe that he stood a chance.

God, he felt so stupid. How had he misread things so drastically?

Stubbing out the cigarette he sighed as his thoughts turned to the wedding. What was he going to do tomorrow…he glanced at the clock where it flashed 3.30am…crap, it didn't even count as tomorrow anymore. It was gonna happen today. Could he really face going to the wedding? Face seeing them both? Together? Did he have any choice? It was _Ross_ , he couldn't abandon him. If it was any other type of vacation or event then he'd had left long by now; he had no doubt about that. He'd be standing at the airport, probably on stand-by list as he waited to escape.

In the current reality it wasn't an option.

He couldn't escape.

He had a decision to make.

* * *

TBC...

A/N - firstly, thank you for sticking with this one and not hating me too much. I know it's a struggle to read for you diehard Mondler fans. There's a light at the end of the tunnel I promise! Just trust me for a couple more chapters.

I'm hoping to update the angsty chapters fairly quickly and get you all to a 'happy' place before I slow the updates down in order to finish the last couple of chapters.

Thanks so much for the reviews- they are always much appreciated, it's always great to hear what you're thinking...and I agree with most of you- M/J pairing makes me a little sick too, so trust me!

Also, that's it for the flashbacks …we've finished with the wallowing (well mostly) and now have to face the music...


	4. Build it up with bricks and mortar

Rachel looked down at her watch and let out a heavy sigh, "not long now," she murmured.

A silence fell over the two friends as they contemplated their own challenges which lay ahead of them. Neither felt ready. Chandler doubted he'd ever feel ready.

"Are you going to be ok?" he asked her softly.

"Sure," she shrugged sadly, "all I have to do is sit there and try and smile. No one really knows me, so as long as I can keep my face neutral enough no one will know any different. Hell, if I cry people will assume they're tears of happiness, right?" He nodded sympathetically in agreement, "Ross was _so_ happy I was here," she continued, "I have to hold onto that somehow. It's gonna hurt like hell, I know that but I'll get over it...eventually…I hope. It was just all so fast that I guess I didn't realize it was actually happening… but I'll be ok. Plus, I've got all you guys to look after me."

"Sure," he agreed sadly, hating what this wedding was doing to the both of them. It wasn't just fair. He guessed, at least, she would have the others to comfort her and take care of her. She'd have _Monica_ to get her through it. Monica. She was great at the advice thing, great at the comfort thing...great at most things. The irony wasn't lost on Chandler that the one person he desperately wanted comfort from was the one reason he needed it. To think, he used to be a lover of irony.

"What about you?" Rachel asked, interrupting his poignant musings, "You have to stand up there with them."

"I know," he sighed, he'd been worrying about that since the early hours, "I'll cope somehow."

At least he hoped he would.

"But you're going to be standing next to _Joey_ ," she pointed out.

"I know," he repeated through gritted teeth, trying his hardest not to snap. His headache was back, pounding with full force and his stomach was starting to churn with nerves and the recent abuse, "but there's not much I can do about that. I live with the man, Rach, it's not like I can avoid him forever. It's not like they did anything wrong. They were both consenting adults."

And that was the truth, the bottom line. No matter how much it crushed him; they hadn't done anything wrong and he couldn't blame or hate either of them. Just himself.

"Like Ross and Emily," she agreed swallowing. "I can't hate him for marrying her, despite how bad I feel."

He couldn't decide if in some way it was a blessing that he had someone with him who could really understand the severe anguish of the whole situation. He wasn't proud of it, but a selfish part of him welcomed it; something strong to hold onto amongst the storm of the pain, heartache and anxiety. But a larger part of him wished she didn't have cause to understand his suffering quite so well.

"Those Gellers know how to break hearts," he said softly, "and they don't even know it."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw her nod in agreement and he sighed again, really hating how much pain she was in; how much pain they were both in right now over the siblings. Wordlessly, he dug the almost-empty bottle out of his jacket pocket, unscrewed the cap and took a long swig. Closing his eyes he felt the liquid burn his throat as it made its way to his empty unsettled stomach.

With a shaky hand he held the bottle out in front of her in a silent invitation.

"What the hell," she muttered, grabbing it off him, "nothing like some Dutch courage."

She took a few mouthfuls, grimacing slightly at the taste of the whiskey. Once done she handed it back to him and he finished the bottle; draining it of its last drops of courage. Empty, he placed it on the dirty ground by the bench. There was no point taking it with him; it had helped all it was going to.

This was it.

They had run out of time.

He could feel his anxiety levels start to rise.

"Let's do this," Rachel sounded determined as she stood up, staring straight ahead.

He swallowed down his nerves, his heart starting to beat that little bit faster wishing he had Rachel's determination. But if Rachel could do this then he could too; he had no choice. He couldn't make her face this by herself. Composing himself a moment, he eventually nodded and slowly stood up to join her. They both had to do this, this was for Ross. Ross didn't deserve his wedding to be destroyed because of this.

He could do this.

He kept the mantra running through his head as he tried to dig deep and find any inner strength that would get him and his heart through this next hour. Just one hour.

They started to walk slowly back through the small courtyard, navigating the debris and rumble. They ducked under the yellow safety tape and passed the 'Keep Out' sign which both had ignored earlier whilst seeking solitude. They came to stand near the front of the partly-demolished church. This was it. Both took deep breaths before looking at each other. Rachel reached out a hand and slowly he took it, giving it a reassuring squeeze before releasing it.

They could do this.

Entering what was left of the old foyer, Chandler let out a relieved sigh at not spotting either Joey or Monica. From here they could see the inside of the church; the stage for their unrequited love dramas to be played upon. It was so close. It looked beautiful which contrasted sharply with the inner darkness he was currently feeling. The hundreds of welcoming fairy lights and candles that he'd actually helped set up what seemed like a lifetime ago, sparkled brightly giving it an understated romantic feel. God, he'd rather be anywhere else than here. Anywhere.

He felt Rachel sigh beside him and he glanced at her. He was sure she was having the same grave thoughts.

"Come on," he swallowed, trying to sound more confident than he felt as he nudged her with his shoulder, "we can do this; for Ross."

She didn't look entirely convinced but slowly nodded and together they forced themselves to enter the main church. They walked down the aisle, treading on the soft red carpet that would change Rachel's life forever. There was an empty seat near the aisle towards the back and Rachel indicated that this would be her chosen seat for this tragedy.

Chandler nodded one last time, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze in comfort, "good luck, Rach."

She nodded gratefully, unshed tears already in her eyes, "you too Chandler."

Their worried gazes met one last time, gaining whatever strength they could from the other before they broke apart.

Chandler continued the rest of the way to the front of the church alone. He kept his head down praying that the ground beneath his shiny shoes would just open up and he could disappear. His hands were still shaking so he stuck them in his now empty pockets, the shirt collar and cravat felt too tight against his neck, choking him. He could feel himself start to sweat, desperately wanting to turn around and run but he couldn't do that. He forced himself to keep walking, one painful step at a time.

"Chandler?"

No going back now. He swallowed before looking up and meeting his friend's concerned gaze.

"Hey Ross."

"Where the hell have you been?" he asked quietly, coming right up to him. "Everyone's been worried sick about you. You look awful, what happened?"

"Nothing," Chandler lied badly, "I'm fine; I'm sorry I worried you, ok man?"

Ross raised an unbelieving eyebrow which he knew only too well.

"Look," he sighed, "don't worry about me, I really am fine- you're about to get married, focus on that. This is gonna be the best day of your life."

Ironically, he remembered saying those exact words of wisdom to him at his first wedding.

He could feel Ross' eyes on him a moment longer, he obviously wasn't convinced.

"I, uh," Chandler continued trying desperately to change the direction of the conversation, "I ran into Rachel and have been with her."

Ross' face changed, "it's great Rachel came isn't it?"

"Sure," Chandler winced as he followed his friend's eyes to the woman in question. It was going to be so painful for her.

"I can't believe she came," Ross continued smiling as his gaze lingered on Rachel.

Chandler frowned as he watched. Something in Ross' eyes didn't seem right, not when standing at the altar waiting for another woman. But at least it had taken Ross' attention off of him.

"It took a lot for her to come," Chandler stated before realizing the implications. "I mean work gave her hell but she was determined to come and wish you the best."

"Yeah," Ross finally looked away from her, his gaze falling back onto Chandler. "Hey, I thought you were walking Monica down the aisle?"

He froze, unprepared for the question and swallowed hard, itching for another cigarette. "Change of plan," he said simply, "I'm, uh, gonna stay up here with you, moral support and all."

"Ok," Ross frowned but thankfully didn't push it. Thank god for small mercies.

He wouldn't have had much time to argue anyhow as the pastor came over and asked if Ross was ready. He looked at Chandler for moral support and despite every instinct in Chandler screaming no, to try and delay the inevitable, he swallowed down his fear and nodded encouragingly. This was about Ross. This was about his oldest friend. Not about him and not about them.

Moments later the music started, causing dread to rush through him. This was really it. It was too late to escape now. He was going to see both of them. Up in front of all these people the last piece of his bruised heart was going to shatter and there was nothing he could do but plaster a fake smile onto his face and pray it stayed there.

Do it for Ross, he reminded himself, do it for Ross.

A couple appeared at the other end of the aisle and started their walk down. Strangers. He should know their names, they'd met at the rehearsal last night but he had no clue who they were. All he knew was after them came Joey and Emily's delightful mother. Would that still happen? Would Joey force her to walk on her own so he could walk down with Monica? Arms linked together, whispering and flirting happily as the recounted the fun they had last? Happily making further plans for tonight? For the future?

He closed his eyes and tried to get control of his breathing. In out. In out. He could do this.

"Why the hell is he on a telephone?"

Confused by Ross' mutterings he reopened his eyes to see that Joey had stuck to the original plan, apart the phone thing. He knew the moment Joey had spotted him as he blinked in surprise and looked a strange mixture of very relieved and very guilty but continued his phone conversation. He even waved at Rachel to which Ross wasn't impressed.

As Joey came to stand next to him, he knew he couldn't ever hate the man. He could feel jealous and a tad bitter but he'd never feel hatred for Joey. Joey was one of the good guys.

"Chandler's here with Ross, no he's ok, I think, looks like crap-" Joey trailed off noticing both men glaring daggers at him. "It's Phoebe!" he said excitedly but the glares remained. "He looks quite mad, I better go…ok, fine…"

Looking at them as casually as possible, Joey held the phone up for Phoebe to hear. Ross shook his head but returned his attention to the other end of the aisle as Chandler continued to study his roommate for another moment. He wasn't sure what clues he was hoping the man would reveal but he didn't reveal anything.

"Hey...you ok, man?" Joey asked quietly, risking another glare from Ross.

"Fine," he swallowed, he seemed to be lying a lot today.

In reality he was anything but. He was anxious as hell. Any moment now Monica would appear and make her descent down the aisle. She'd look stunning and he'd know that she had chosen the man next to him. He took some deep breaths, the band and candles antagonising his headache. He squeezed his hands into small fists trying to stop the shaking. He could do this.

Then there she was.

On her own.

Her eyes met his instantly, piercing blue. There were so many emotions, hurt, anger, relief, guilt, that he couldn't maintain the contact. It was too much. His gaze broke away, dropping to the floor as he tried to compose himself.

He should feel guilty that he'd made her walk down the aisle alone. He should feel guilty that they'd been worrying about where he was. Guilty that he'd fallen in love with her in the first place. But all he could do was focus on the red piece of carpet underneath his feet and try not to bolt.

As she got to the front he foolishly risked another glance at her and swallowed. It was a mistake. Being so close he could see the confusion and hurt and it tore through him. He knew he couldn't hide from her and felt vulnerable as she studied him; her eyes boring into his exposing his soul; it was laid bare for her to see. She was probably only standing there for a second but it felt like an eternity.

When she'd moved away to stand with the other bridesmaids he closed his eyes and let out a shuddering breath. He'd done it. Barely, but he'd done it. He'd seen them both and hadn't broken down. He hadn't crumbled on the spot and hadn't bolted.

He opened his eyes and sought out Rachel in the crowd who offered him a brief smile which he returned. He'd done _his_ hard bit, but now it was time for her to do hers.

He didn't envy her.

* * *

A/N- again thank you so much for all the reviews. Means a lot :o)


	5. Bricks and mortar will not stay

As Chandler stood at the front of the altar he wasn't paying much attention to the ceremony that continued around him. He was starting to feel as awful as he looked; the stress and emotions of the last 24 hours were finally taking its toll on his exhausted body. His head was pounding, his stomach churning, his skin was hot and clammy and he was definitely trembling slightly. He couldn't remember ever feeling so terrible.

To add to it all, he felt like everyone's eyes were on him, intently watching him as he tried to keep it together. It was as if they could see the twisted images that were being played on repeat in his tortured mind. Monica and Joey, Joey and Monica. Taking some deep breaths he tried to ignore the mental pictures; now wasn't the time. He shot a quick look at the congregation, relieved that they weren't all staring at him. Why would they when Ross and Emily were up there on center stage? They were the reason everyone was here; why _he_ was here. No one cared about the emotional wreck of a best man that stood swaying next to the happy couple. He was just for show. He just had to keep upright for a little longer and then everyone would forget all about his existence.

Everyone that is apart from _her_. He knew _she_ wouldn't let him forget. Chandler could feel Monica's piercing eyes on him, burning into his skull but he stubbornly refused to meet her gaze. Why wouldn't she let up? Surely, she should be staring at her boyfriend, her lover...both of which he wasn't and never would be. He sighed quietly.

The pastor was droning on in his monotone voice, describing just how fantastic it was to find love. Mocking bastard. He wasn't preaching about how painful it was to find love and lose it before it even began.

Chandler could still feel the heavy weight of Monica's gaze and still refused to look over to her. He couldn't face being exposed to her again, he was too vulnerable. He needed to preserve any strength that his weakening body had left in order to face her afterwards.

Afterwards. All his previous adrenaline and efforts this morning had been focused purely on turning up and not letting Ross down. He stupidly hadn't given much thought to what was going to happen next. Idiot.

The ceremony would eventually finish and then he'd have no more protection. He'd have no excuses, no reasons to not talk to her, to not talk to _them_. He wasn't prepared. He hadn't thought of cover stories for last night to explain his reaction; he hadn't practiced the lies that needed to easily roll off his tongue. He'd be expected to smile at his friends like any normal person would. Expected to congratulate them both on their new found happiness. Expected to listen to Joey talk about just how good she was and listen to Monica excitedly chatter, like she always did when she had a new potential boyfriend.

He'd be expected to pretend that he was thrilled for them whilst trying to hide how utterly crushed he was. How a little part of him had died here in London. God, how was he meant to that? Just standing here being this close to them was already pushing his stretched nerves. He needed a cigarette. Needed something.

He was never very good at lying to her. She knew him too well. Knew when he wasn't telling the truth and that was on a good day. If he was forced to speak to her now he knew he'd have no chance in hell of convincingly lying to her. She'd see through his fumbled attempts of an excuse and recognise the fake smiles for what they were. Empty lies.

She'd want explanations. She'd want to know what he was hiding, where he'd been and what the hell his problem was. And he'd probably tell her. He'd have no defences, no energy and would probably confess to everything; embarrassing them both and destroying their friendship in the process.

He'd ruin everything and he couldn't let that happen.

No, he had to try and buy some time. Maybe, just maybe if he was granted that then he could try to compose himself. He'd have to try to leave before talking to her, it was the only option. If she thought they could talk at the reception she might leave it until then…and by that time he'd be gone. When this stupid ceremony was finished he had to leave undetected. If he could just make it back to the solace of his second hotel room then he'd be safe, invisible again. No one knew it existed and he could use this safe haven to collect his thoughts, collect his dignity and try to strengthen what was left of his bruised heart. To ready it for the next round of pain and misery.

Could he face another round?

If he made it to his room unscathed maybe he could even pack and go onto the airport to try and catch an earlier flight. He was struggling to make it through one hour with them, how the hell was he gonna manage on a six hour flight? One where they would want to sit next to each other, whisper and touch each other. God, what if they went and joined the mile-high club? Then giggled together about it. He felt sick at the thought of being trapped on an airplane with them in their honeymoon stage. Damn, why did Ross have to choose to get married so far away from home?

And even if he did escape home he knew it would only be temporary. She'd come after him. He had no doubt that she'd catch up with him no matter what country he was hiding in and want answers.

Grimacing, he tried to focus his confused mind. To concentrate on the here and now. He had to prepare his overtired body to find one last burst of adrenaline and be prepared to run the second the ceremony finished.

Run. Escape. Retreat.

Despite the blood pumping in his ears, he tuned back into the service and was relieved to hear they were onto their vows. It couldn't go on for much longer, thank God.

"I, Ross, take thee, Rachel."

Oh no. Chandler jerked in shock and in fear looked over to Rachel, seeing her confusion and hope. This really wasn't fair.

As a panicked murmur spread across the wedding guests he kept his eyes on her, trying to offer any strength he could. He saw her hope turn into pain and silent tears when Ross told them it was just a mistake and the wedding should continue. God, this was so cruel on her, so cruel.

The ceremony continued but the 'Rachel' incident still hung heavy in the air. The awkwardness and tension added yet another reason why he wished this would just be over. He kept shooting little looks in Rachel's direction in an attempt to comfort her whilst still avoiding Monica's eyes. They were still on him, he could feel them. Damn it, why wasn't this agonizing ceremony over? It had done its job and entertained the crowd whilst crushing the two friends. He just needed it to be finished. Done with.

Then, finally, it was. He watched the couple share a cringe-worthy kiss as he prepared himself for what was to come next. Escape. Sweet sweet freedom.

"Joey," Chandler croaked quietly, "go look after Ross, ok, he's gonna need back up."

He felt a little guilty abandoning Ross right now. Especially after that. A groom would need his best man, but Chandler knew that Joey could do the job. Once again Joey was a better man for the job. Both Geller's had chosen him.

Chandler closed his eyes as the earlier anguish crashed through him. He couldn't do this now. He just had to concentrate on getting out of here and avoiding _her_. That's all he had to do.

"Sure," Joey nodded awkwardly, shooting him one last concerned glance before joining the crowd of people leaving.

This was it. Show time. Every exhausted fibre in his body was screaming to just bolt. He'd ignored his natural instincts long enough, now was time to listen and flee. There was a mass of people leaving and he couldn't see where Monica had gone so took his chance. Desperate to get the hell outta there.

Silently sending an apology to Rachel for deserting her, he shot out of one the side doors into the back of the church and escaped through a large taped-off hole. People were congregated all around the outside of the church. Too many people. He swallowed down the claustrophobia, trying to keep his head down and blend with the masses.

There was lots of confusion and shock, people gossiping as they discussed Ross' faux pas. Staggering slightly, he commanded his tired limbs to dodge through the crowds and make it out onto the street beyond. Adrenaline was coursing through his body, his heart pounding as he forced himself to just move, to just get away. He loosened his collar so he could breathe easier. He just needed to walk. He forced himself to fasten his pace, quicker than his already abused body could handle but he didn't care. Showing himself no mercy he made himself take one step after another.

Everything was screaming to just get away from here. To get to safety and then he could collapse and wallow in his misery. Face the bitter reality of the crappy cards he'd been dealt. He could feel the sting of tears as they started to build but he swiped at them angrily. He had to escape before he let the dam, that was barely maintaining his unstable emotions, burst free.

Free. Escape.

"Chandler!"

Damn it, no. He was _so_ close. Head down he kept walking, not slowing his harsh pace.

"Chandler! Stop! Damn it, you know I can't run in these heels."

He paused, wavering, squeezing his eyes shut in defeat. He'd failed. Yet again.

"It's Ross' wedding, Mon," he said, eyes still closed and not turning to face her. "You need to go back, he needs you." He was impressed at how calm his voice sounded, not giving away the emotional turmoil that was threatening to overwhelm him at any moment.

"He can take care of himself," she argued, catching up to where he stood, "it's _you_ that I'm worried about."

He swallowed, hating that she cared so much. It would be so much easier if she didn't.

He remained silent, eyes still shut, breathing heavily.

"Hey," he felt her hand grip his arm, quickly joined by another. "I've been _so_ worried about you, Chandler," she said, her voice breaking under the strain, "I thought something had happened to you."

Something had happened. He'd had his heart-broken, crushed. His life shattered. He felt her fingers dig painfully into his arm before touching his chest, then his face as if assuring herself he was really there.

"Look at me," she begged, "please," and he realized despite everything, he still couldn't deny her anything.

Slowly, he opened his eyes and met hers. The blue pools were dark and intense and full of pain. They were even more intense than they'd been in the church and he was completely powerless to do anything but stand there and let her scrutinize him. His broken heart bare and defenseless.

He had no idea how long they stood like that, how long their eyes were connected, silently communicating and searching for answers.

"God, Chandler," she finally pulled him into a fierce hug.

She clung tightly to him and he stayed rigid in her embrace for just a beat before his arms hesitantly wrapped around her waist. A moment later he gave in, pulling her forcefully against him. He buried his head in her neck. Clinging to her, savoring her, desperate to soak her all in.

As he held her, images of last night started to creep back into his mind. Reality slowly seeping in and mocking him. He was torn, part of him needing this comfort that only she could provide. He'd appreciated Rachel's earlier attempts but it was always Monica that knew how to calm his soul.

The other part of him was screaming he needed to let go. That he was only delaying the inevitable and that it would crush him even more after a moment like this. Every second he continued to cling to her, the harder it would be to let go. And he'd have to let her go. She wasn't his.

Maybe this was a pity hug to soften the blow? To soften the blow of rejecting him before he'd even asked her out. To soften the blow of choosing his roommate over him. Pulling her even tighter, he tried to ignore his thoughts, to keep the harsh reality at bay for just that little bit longer. If this was a pity hug, he was determined to commit every single detail to memory. The feel of her in his arms, her warmth, her smell. God, he would miss her so much, so damn much.

Eventually, they pulled apart, her hands sliding down his arms, still touching him as if she was afraid that if she let go he'd run. Maybe he would if he had the energy. He didn't. The little energy he had found earlier had slowly drained. He was exhausted.

"We need to talk," she said softly, still studying him intently, still holding onto him.

He nodded glumly, avoiding her eyes, knowing and almost accepting his fate, "hotel?"

She nodded and took his hand tightly, still not letting him go. Together they walked slowly in silence looking for a black cab. The only sounds being from Monica's heels as they clipped against the pavement. Thankfully, it didn't take them too long to find what they were looking for.

Monica stated the hotel name to the driver whilst Chandler collapsed in the worn seat. He closed his eyes, resting his head against the window, against the cool glass, trying to block out the bright lights, traffic horns…and her. To try and forget about the conversation to come.

He was very aware of how close she was sitting to him; practically pressed into his side. Even with his eyes shut he could tell she was looking at him, studying him. He could feel it. His head was throbbing and he wished he'd managed to avoid her. He knew he wasn't strong enough for the upcoming conversation, he wondered if he'd ever be strong enough.

The cab stopped and he felt Monica move beside him. Opening his eyes he saw her handing the driver some foreign money before opening the door. She climbed out and turned back to him, reluctantly he followed, his aching muscles protesting and the pounding in his head increasing at the sudden movement.

Wearily, he trailed behind her as she led the way into the hotel, through the posh reception and into the heartless corridors. They rode the elevator in silence, the bright artificial lights cutting through him. As they exited she tried to take a right but he reached out a hand, grabbing her arm lightly. She looked at him questioningly but he just walked wordlessly, knowing she'd follow. She did.

After a few memorized turns they stood outside his second room.

His safe haven was about to be exposed but at least they wouldn't get disturbed here.

He could have the most painful conversation of his life away from prying eyes. Hopefully, afterwards, she'd allow him the dignity of grieving in private.

Silently, he fumbled in his pocket for his room key and pushed opened the door and walked inside.

"So, this is where you were last night?" she asked quietly as she took a few hesitant steps into the room.

He nodded, grimacing at the pain it caused. He decided not to point out he hadn't gotten this room until the early hours of this morning. He watched as she took in the used ash trays, the empty cigarette packets and the empty drink bottle that lined the hotel surfaces; he was grateful she didn't comment.

Her eyes then fell on his suitcase and she blinked, "when did you…?"

"I, uh, grabbed it when you guys were at the wedding breakfast," he sighed, he didn't have the energy or capacity for small talk. He felt awful.

The blind was still shut from this morning, which blocked out most of the unwanted sun. He was grateful that he'd left the window open, bringing a touch of fresh air into the otherwise stale and smoky room. He kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the large unmade bed.

His exhaustion was starting to override his previous adrenaline. He lay down, closing his eyes and wincing as world tilted and the knives in his head got sharper. His tired mind and body was desperate to shut down and be put out of its misery. He started to crave the innocence of peaceful slumber, a brief interlude from the gritty reality.

He could feel her eyes on him but he couldn't bring himself to care. He just needed _this_ for a few moments. He just needed a bit of time to rest and to think. To try and compose himself and gather his thoughts. To -

"Nothing happened with Joey."

That cut through the fog in his mind, his confused eyes snapped open to meet hers.

* * *

TBC…

A/N- thanks for all the reviews. It's great to hear that so many of you are enjoying this...


	6. Build it up with iron and steel

"I saw you," he croaked, trying not to sound accusing but knowing he was failing, too tired to sugarcoat it.

"I didn't sleep with him," she promised, looking somewhat embarrassed and uncomfortable but still determined as she started to pace, "we, ah, stopped as soon as you walked in."

"Oh," he watched her pace for a moment wringing her hands, unsure if her words should be a comfort or not. They may have not slept together but they had intended to. Wasn't that just as bad? It certainly still stung, still made him feel like crap. His head was hurting too much for this, his stomach still knotted. He closed his eyes in a vain attempt to block it all out.

After a few moments Chandler felt the bed dip slightly; he assumed she was now sitting on the edge but didn't open his eyes to clarify. It seemed a lot of effort for little reward and his throbbing head had found small comfort in the soft hotel pillow. He just wanted to succumb to merciful sleep. To make it all just go away.

He didn't want to be here, didn't want her to be here. Didn't want this conversation, any conversation.

"It's probably best if I begin from the start," she muttered, clearly not hearing his silent pleas.

He didn't feel the need to reply. Couldn't. As much as he probably needed to hear what she had to say, he really didn't want to hear it, any of it. He desperately didn't because no matter what she said, no matter her reasons, it was always going to end in an explanation of why she had chosen Joey.

This was going to hurt.

Hell, it already hurt.

"I, uh, I was really depressed from what my mom said," she continued, "and not having a boyfriend and that drunk guy and well…you know, you were there; you spent the evening letting me cry on your shoulder."

He had. He'd been the good friend. The dependable one. The overlooked one. He should really be used to his role in life by now.

"After you left my room I, uh, I tried to go to sleep, I really did, but I was too drunk and restless…so I got up and made myself another drink."

Scotch on the rocks with a twist no doubt. He hated he knew so much about her. This would be so much easier if he didn't know every little perfect detail about her; if he didn't know that he'd missed out of the most amazing woman on this planet. That no one would ever be able to substitute her.

"But the alcohol wasn't enough," she admitted quietly, "I… I just wanted to feel _alive,_ to be desired, beautiful, needed…to be with someone...physically. To feel that bit of pleasure and feel worth something. I just wanted to forget everything, all the comments, all my failures... just for the night."

He could hear the embarrassment in her voice, having to admit this out loud to _him_ probably wasn't something she'd expected to have to do. Hell, part of him wished she'd just stop talking as it was painful. Painful for her to say and painful for him to hear. There was nothing he could do apart from lie there and try to shield what was left of his heart as his body slowly shut down.

"I debated going to the bar and doing it the old fashioned way and hooking up with some stranger," she confessed awkwardly; she wasn't proud. "But with so many guests being here for the wedding I was terrified of sleeping with a future in-law or something. So, I decided it wasn't worth the risk. I almost tried going back to sleep again…"

God, he wished she had done that. Everything would still be normal if she'd just done that.

"But I didn't," she continued, unaware of his internal thoughts. "I had the not so great idea that I had 2 male friends and one of them might consider...helping me out."

He frowned, not fully understanding, his head beyond painful and foggy. Had she considered _him_ as well as Joey? Had it just been the case of bad luck that Joey had been there? That if Chandler hadn't gone back to the bar for another drink it could have been him? Was fate really that cruel that a single drink could have changed his life?

"So," she continued, oblivious to his unspoken questions. She was desperate to just get this out and over with. "I made it to your room, well your _other_ room," she corrected. "I was _really really_ drunk, Chandler and I just really needed…sex… ."

She winced, hating this. He winced, hating this.

"Joey answered," she rushed on, wishing confession time was over, "so the decision was made. I knew he would do 'it' without any questions. I'd just be another name on a very long list and last night I was fine with that. It's not my usual style, not what I'd ever usually want but I was just so depressed and feeling so blah and that was the way I chose to deal with it. My vice. I knew he would just give me sex and that's all I wanted just then...if it had been you that answered…it wouldn't have been that easy…"

"How do you mean?" he croaked when she didn't continue. He was not sure if he wanted to try and understand her meaning or not. Every thought being processed was taking that extra bit of effort for his exhausted brain to figure out. Whilst part of him was desperate to understand her meaning the larger part of him just begged him to give into sleep and worry about everything later.

"We're best friends, we have a connection that I've never had with anyone else; not even Rachel," she admitted quietly. "If I'd turned up at your door, drunk, wanting sex, you wouldn't have agreed. You would have just tried to make me feel better, cheered me up with jokes and hugs…like you always do."

"Says who?"

"I know you Chandler," she insisted, "admittedly, I realize now that I didn't quite know _everything_ about you, but I knew you'd treat me with respect and wouldn't want to risk our friendship. You would have thought of it as taking advantage of me. Even knowing what I know now, I still know you and know you wouldn't have wanted it like that."

"What do you know now?" he asked quietly, his hand pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited in dread. He needed to know how much she'd picked up on; he expected but needed to know for sure.

"That I've hurt you badly," she whispered pained. He could hear tears in her voice and hated that it was because of him. Because he had fallen in love with her without her permission. It wasn't fair she was hurting too.

"That's not your fault," he whispered fiercely. "You never asked for this."

No one had.

"I know," she said softly, "but if I'd known how you felt Chandler, I'd _never_ have gone looking like that. I wouldn't have done that to you."

"You don't have to promise that, Mon," he sighed, his throat catching, "this is _my_ problem not yours."

"How can you say that?" she asked disbelieving.

"Because it's the truth," he informed her harshly. "You never asked me to fall for you, so it's not fair to expect you to try and sort this out or do anything differently. It's my fault, my own doing."

It went silent for a moment. The only sounds coming from the distant London hum rising up from the street below. He tried to get a grip on his emotions. He felt awful, sick, his body protesting at still being awake. He really wished he wasn't having the most important and intimate conversation of his life when feeling this utterly drained and exhausted.

"Did you mean to fall in love with me?" she asked bravely.

"God, no," he answered quickly. Right now he'd do _anything_ to not to be in love with this woman.

"Then it's no one's fault," she pointed out, "I'm just so sorry you got hurt by all this."

Everyone had been hurt by this. Hurt by this stupid wedding in this stupid country.

"I'll be ok," he eventually whispered, hoping it was true. He could feel his body starting to shake slightly. He was losing the battle to stay conscious, his mind becoming more and more cloudy. Yet he needed to ask again, to be certain of something in amongst the confusion. "You really didn't sleep with him?"

"No."

Thank god.

"So…you aren't gonna be starting a relationship with him?" he asked hesitantly, possibly more afraid of this answer but he had to ask. He had to know before the exhaustion won out.

"No," she scoffed, "please, can you really see me and Joey in a relationship?"

He had in the nightmare last night, he'd seen every possible horrible outcome.

"That's what you were afraid of?" she guessed gently, "That me and Joey would get together?"

He nodded into the pillow, despite his headache, not trusting his voice right now, not having the energy to speak.

"Oh Chandler," he felt the bed move and struggled to open his heavy eyes. He was surprised to see her face so close to his. She was now lying next to him her body parallel to him. "I can see why that would hurt you," she whispered, staring openly and honestly into his eyes. "But I _promise_ you, me and Joey didn't sleep together, will never sleep together and will never be in a relationship with one another."

He closed his eyes as he tried to control the relief that swept through him. He could feel her fingertips gently tracing the side of his face, carressing his skin.

"I went to the hotel room looking purely for sex," she stated, "if I had to choose between the two of you for a relationship…it would be you every time."

"What?" it took a lot of effort but he opened eyes again frowning. He allowed her to lightly brush away the tears that he hadn't even been aware had been falling silently.

"The only things me and Joey have in common are our like of food and…well _you._ He cares about you so much and would never knowingly hurt you, Chandler."

"I know," he breathed. He knew that.

"But 'us', I could see that…I could see that working."

"Really?" he was over-tired, over-emotional and very confused. His brain unable to keep up with the change in conversation. Was she trying to say she wanted to be in a relationship with him or just trying to reassure him that on some hypothetical level, at least, she would choose him over Joey? He wasn't sure and his heart was too damaged to try and hope.

"How long have you liked me?" she asked.

"A long time," he confessed still confused.

"I wished you'd clued me in," she smiled, her hands caressing his face again, her eyes filled with unshed tears, "we could have avoided all this."

"I'm sorry," he didn't know what else to say, his weary brain unable to take it all in. He still couldn't fully understand what was going on but she was here talking to him. She was here with him. She hadn't slept with Joey.

"Don't be sorry," she whispered, her hands cupping his cheek.

He swallowed, still not fully comprehending the situation when she leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. She pulled back before he'd even registered what was happening. What was happening?

"Did you get any sleep last night?" she asked, studying him closely.

"I don't think so," he admitted, frowning slightly as his headache starting pounding with full force.

"Try and get some sleep, sweetie," she got up from the bed and he watched her from drooping eyelids. "I need to head back to the reception or my parents will kill me. Go to sleep and we can talk more in a bit, when you're more awake. That ok?"

He nodded, still utterly confused but he knew that sleep sounded good. Very good.

She was standing by the side of his bed, looking down at him with an expression that he couldn't figure out. She leaned forward and kissed his forehead softly, her lips lingering as her hand gently stroked his ruffled hair.

"Sleep well, Chandler," she whispered.

He watched her grab her purse and coat and turn towards the door.

"Mon," he called and she paused and waited patiently as he tried to form words through the fog, "look after Rachel, she's hurting too."

She came back over to him and he could see her tears, "I will," she promised, squeezing his shoulder and placing another butterfly kiss against his temple. "I'll look after her, I promise, and you look after you and get some sleep, ok?"

He nodded gently closing his eyes. It felt good. He was asleep before she left the room.

* * *

TBC...

A/N- don't worry if you're as confused as Chandler right now. There's more explanations to come. Thanks again so much for all the reviews.


	7. Iron and steel will bend and bow

Chandler awoke, his eyelids heavy and his throat sore. The headache was still there but it had quietened a little for which he was grateful. With a loud sigh he pried open his eyes and looked around the darkened hotel room as he let fragments of memory slowly wash over him.

She hadn't slept with Joey.

She wasn't Joey's girlfriend.

He wouldn't lose his two best friends.

That was enough to get him sitting up and running a hand through his disheveled hair. With a grimace he took in the empty JD bottle, the almost-empty cigarette packets and the really-not-so empty ashtrays. He had to do something about those, he didn't like them being there. Poignant souvenirs of last night's nightmare which he had no desire to hang onto.

Last night.

Thank god it was over.

For the second time that day, he left the bed with just a few hours' sleep and headed determinedly into the compact bathroom with only one mission; to try and make himself feel a tad more human. However, this time it was different. This time there was a slight spring in his step and the face that greeted him in the brightly-illuminated mirror wore a small smile.

Hope.

That's what was different from this morning; hope. There was now a glimmer of hope where earlier there had only been bleak despair. Light had fought its way into the darkness that had previously surrounded him. He now knew that Monica hadn't slept with Joey; she'd made that clear to him for which he'd be eternally grateful to her.

When they'd spoken earlier, she'd been concerned for him, stroked his hair and cheek and even kissed him. He'd been close to unconsciousness at that point in the conversation but he remembered her touches branding his skin and the way her soft lips had pressed against his. Damn, he wished he'd been more awake.

He splashed cold water onto his face, scrubbing a towel across it and glanced back in the mirror. There was a glint in his eyes which he feared he wouldn't see again after last night. He wanted, no he _needed_ to go find her and talk to her some more. He desperately wanted some answers. He was still confused by her behavior earlier. She'd been so apologetic and protective over him, but had it been purely because of guilt?

She'd guessed his feelings, had understood his pain and had blamed herself. Was that all it was?

He sighed, wishing he knew what was going on in her mind. What it all meant. He left the bathroom and quickly changed then tidied the room. Despite whatever happened, right now, he had a small glimmer of hope and he was gonna cling onto it as if his life depended on it; maybe it did.

With that thought spurring him on he left the hotel room, hoping he would be able to remember the road name the Waltham's house was on. He needed to get to the reception. He needed to check how Ross was doing after the whole name incident. He needed to check how Rachel was doing after the whole name incident. He needed to talk to Joey about last night and, finally, and most importantly he needed to speak to Monica about this afternoon.

That was a lot of people to need to speak to. A lot of people caught up in this ongoing drama.

He made it into the hotel lobby when he blinked, confused as he spotted his friends, minus the not so happy couple, returning.

"Hey," he greeted weakly, swallowing as all three pairs of eyes swung onto him in surprise. "What's, uh, going on? I was about to come and find you guys."

"Emily's gone missing," Monica winced.

Ouch.

"What?" He asked incredulous. This didn't sound good, not good at all. "Seriously?"

"Yup. She escaped outta the bathroom window," Rachel sighed. "No one knows exactly when she left. She could be anywhere by now."

Chandler winced, poor Ross.

"So, they ended the party and threw us all out," Joey mumbled, avoiding looking at him.

Chandler's gaze stayed on his roommate for a moment longer, hating the awkwardness between them.

"How's, uh, Ross?" Chandler ventured, more than a little guilty that he wasn't there for him in his hour of need; some best man he was turning out to be.

"Not good," Monica admitted, before shooting a quick concerned look to Rachel to check on her. Chandler understood the look. "He's with our parents right now and wants to try and look for her but doesn't know where to start…"

As she trailed off Chandler was surprised to see a haunted look cross her features. He couldn't quite decipher its meaning. Eventually, though, he pushed his thoughts out of his mind and simply nodded with a grimace. He couldn't believe how eventful this weekend had been.

He glanced at his three friends. Rachel still looked how she had this morning, in pain and hurting. Joey still looked a little guilty and uneasy as he shuffled his feet. Monica was looking worried, no doubt over him, Rachel and Ross.

It was all such a mess. One big stupid mess.

What to tackle first? As much as he dying to talk to Monica and try to figure some things out there was more at stake. Joey and Rachel were their best friends as were also in a lot of pain. Maybe it was best to try and help them a little first, he didn't want this hanging over them when they were trying to talk. When they did get to talk he had a feeling that their conversation wasn't gonna be a quick one.

"Hey Mon," he suggested, "why don't you and Rachel go back to your room and get changed and me and Joey will do the same then come over?"

That would give them a bit of time to try and help their respective roommates. He was desperate to clear the air with Joey and knew there was no one better to try and give advice to Rachel. Monica was amazing at advice.

He felt her study him for a moment and slowly she nodded, "ok," she agreed finally, "but can I have quick have a word first?" she gestured over to the corner almost nervously.

He swallowed, butterflies suddenly in his stomach as he nodded.

"You guys talk," Rachel insisted quickly, "I'll meet you in your room Monica, come on Joey."

Chandler watched as Joey threw one last worried look at him before he let himself get dragged away by Rachel.

"You ok?" Monica asked quietly, bringing his attention back to her as she came to stand close to him. Very close to him.

He swallowed again.

"Yeah," he offered her a tug of a smile. "A lot better than earlier, thanks for that by the way."

She offered him a genuine smile then and her hand came to rest comfortingly on his arm. Neither were sure who needed the tactile comfort more but both were grateful for it.

"We still need to talk about things," she told him gently.

He was pleased that she still wanted to talk things through. It wasn't just him. That had to be promising. And if it was going to be a bad talk she wouldn't be smiling like that, she wouldn't be touching his arm still and looking at him like that…right? God, he hoped so but he'd never been great at reading 'signs'. And whilst a little stronger, his heart was reluctant to get hurt again so quickly.

"I know," he promised softly, "I wanna talk too and we will…I just can't believe how much has happened in the last 24 hours."

"Yeah," she agreed, "some wedding, huh?"

He looked at her and smiled ruefully. It had been a surreal weekend. Possibly the hardest he could ever remember but he could still feel that little piece of hope in his chest. Her hand was still warm on his arm and she was smiling almost shyly at him. He just prayed it all meant something. It had too. God, he so desperately wanted to talk to her but not here out in the lobby. Not now when Rachel and Joey were waiting for them.

"Can we talk later?" he asked, "Just the two of us? I don't want to rush this or be thinking of the others and right now-"

"Yeah, sure," she nodded quickly then hesitated.

"What?" he asked gently, sensing she wanted to say something. "Hey, what is it?"

"I, was, I…what, uh, are you going to say to Joey?"

He frowned for a moment, confused as to why she was so worried.

"I just want to clear the air," he promised, "reassure him that I don't hate him or anything."

He must have said the right thing as she smiled, the hand on his arm tightening, "thank god," she sighed with a relieved breath. "I'd never forgive myself if you guys fell out over this. Over my stupid drunken-"

Ah.

"Hey," he stopped her guilt trip with a single finger, resting it for the briefest of moments on her perfect lips. "Don't do that. Last night wasn't your fault or Joey's."

She swallowed down the pain and eventually nodded. She still didn't look convinced so he gave into the temptation of pulling her into a hug. Burying his face into her neck he spent a while just savoring her. His arms were tight around her as waist as they both quietly reassured each other and drew in strength. They swayed slightly.

He hadn't lost her.

Thank god he hadn't lost her.

"Are you going to be ok with Rachel?" he asked as they pulled back slightly. "She's really hurting over all this."

"I know," Monica nodded, "I spoke to her at the reception. She was very keen to know where I'd been, especially when I said that I'd been with _you_."

He nodded in understanding, wondering what Rachel would have told her about their pre-wedding conversations. "We saw each other before the ceremony," he informed her with a wince. "Neither of us were exactly in a happy place."

Monica nodded just wishing she'd been there for both of them.

"I'll look after her, I'll try my best to sort her out," Monica promised, "and you go and sort out Joey and then we can…sort out each other."

"I'd like that," he grinned softly.

She grinned back, looking into his eyes and he swallowed. Her face was still so close and part of him wanted to kiss her but he was still not a hundred percent sure of what was gonna happen between them. Kissing her now would only complicate things; wouldn't it? His eyes were drawn to her red lips and unconsciously his tongue darted out to wet his own. God she was so beautiful.

She looked caught in the same spell. Her eyes running over his face, her lips parting slightly in anticipation. He saw her lean forwards just a fraction. His breath caught in throat, his heart speeding up as he tilted his head then she suddenly looked down, mood broken. She stepped away from him and he closed his eyes trying to compose himself.

"I, uh…" she tried, looking embarrassed.

"Yeah," he agreed, a small smile crossing his lips as he took in the slight flush on her cheeks. Chandler scrubbed a hand through his already mussed hair as Monica fiddled with her handbag. "I, uh, guess we better go deal with our roommates," he commented, "and then we can talk."

Talk. They had to talk first before any kissing could take place, he reminded himself. Kissing without talking could lead to rejection and his heart couldn't handle that. No, they had to take this slowly, sensibly, there was too much at stake.

"Yeah," she agreed, "Sounds like a plan."

He stuffed his hands into his pants' pockets and they started a slow stroll in the direction of the hotel rooms. They walked along the corridor together, their shoulders brushing occasionally as they shared little looks. They rode the elevator in silence and made it to Monica's room first.

"Good luck," he simply said. "I'll, um, catch you in a bit."

Their eyes met again and he swallowed hard as they stood there taking the other in. Eventually, he leant forward and placed a gentle lingering kiss on her cheek

He pulled back and smiled softly as she met his eyes. Then he turned and headed towards his other room. He could feel her eyes on him until he rounded the corner.

With a sigh he tried to forget his thoughts about Monica and ready himself to speak to his roommate.

It wasn't long before he stood in front of the hotel room door, the hotel door that this whole nightmare had started behind. He took a deep steadying breath before pushing it open. Joey's head instantly shot up and he met his troubled eyes briefly.

"Hey," Chandler tried hesitantly.

"Hey," Joey tried back.

Silence.

Chandler winced, hating the awkwardness. He took another deep breath, before taking a seat on his unused bed, "look Joe, I…"

"I swear I didn't know," Joey interrupted him. "I wouldn't have, I mean…"

"I know," Chandler assured him quickly.

"I'd never have done that to you, man," he continued.

"I know, it's alright" Chandler repeated, wetting his lips and sighing. He really didn't want to think about the previous evening, would much rather focus on _this_ evening's potential. He couldn't wait to talk to her. "Don't worry about it."

"If I'd known that you liked her," Joey continued not hearing him, "ya know, in that way, I would have turned her down in an instant. I mean I tried to at first anyway but then-"

"Joey!" Chandler interrupted him, he really didn't want any details, really didn't think he'd be able to cope with them. He wanted to hold onto that brief hope from earlier and didn't want it squished with graphic step by step diagrams. "Look it's not your fault, ok. You guys didn't do anything wrong last night. It's my fault…I just handled it badly…and…"

"You don't hate me?" Joey asked with a frown.

"Of course not," Chandler offered him a tug of a smile.

"Really? Thank god," Joey closed his eyes and let out a relieved breath; Chandler could see the tension drain from his friend. "I was so worried, man. I thought I'd broken the code. Ya know bros before ho-"

"Don't," Chandler cut him off with a slight huff of a laugh, "please don't finish that sentence… _ever_ \- Monica would kill you."

Joey chuckled and flashed him a smile; he couldn't help but smile back. They were going to be fine.

"So you and Monica, huh?" Joey asked with a grin.

"I hope so, maybe," he shrugged, his mind going back to that almost kiss. "I know, I'm punching above my weight, right?"

"She's a lot hotter than you," Joey agreed to which Chandler rolled his eyes, "but I think she likes you too."

"Yeah?" he frowned slightly, intrigued to see what his roommate had observed; Joey wasn't renowned for his observational skills.

He watched then as Joey winced, looking down for a moment, turning vaguely serious again.

"You should have seen her last night, after you left," he swallowed a little before looking back up at Chandler. "She was _so_ worried about you, man. I mean, I was too but Monica was _so_ panicked. We tried going after you but you had a head start and we had no idea where you had gone. We hoped you had just gone for a walk to clear your head but as the hours went by she was convinced that something had happened to you.

"We tried driving around the city for a bit in a black cab but it was dark and there were so many people around, even at that time of night, so we had to give up. She was hoping that you would have returned in the time we were gone but when you hadn't, she was so distraught.

"I stayed with her for a bit in her room but knew there was a better chance you'd return to our room. But I didn't want to leave her alone in that state and I didn't want to disturb Ross and Emily, so in the end I gotta hold of Phoebe and she spoke to her while I waited in our room.

"By the time it was morning and there was still no sign of you she looked numb, ya know. I managed to get her to the wedding breakfast and tried to get her to eat something. Although, when Ross asked where you were she almost broke down again but we didn't want to worry him.

"She was talking about going to the police and hospitals but when I got back to the room as saw your suitcase was gone she was so relieved as it meant you were at the very least alive. I told her you wouldn't miss the wedding and that she'd get to talk to you then and that she just had to focus on getting ready.

"Man...she wouldn't have acted like that unless she liked you, Chandler."

A heavy silence hung in the room as Chandler took it all in. He suddenly felt very guilty about what he'd unknowingly put them through. He hadn't even been aware that they'd stopped…doing what they had been. In his mind's eye they'd been enjoying themselves and not once thinking about him.

How wrong he'd been.

* * *

A/N- thank you so much for all the feedback! I'm glad people are enjoying this story.

I glad you're liking the chapter titles too. We only ever sang the first verse when I was growing up so I was surprised to see how many verses this nursery rhyme had. Seemed to fit though :o)


	8. Build it up with silver and gold

"Wow," it was Chandler's turn to swallow, running a hand through his hair, "I had no idea. I'm so sorry man, I wasn't thinking straight. I just…"

"Hey, I understand," Joey promised. "I get it, ok. I just wanted you to know how worried she was. So, uh, where _did_ you go last night?"

That was a good question. His memories were somewhat fuzzy still; he seemed to recall darkened streets, nameless buildings and the river Thames being the backdrop to last night's anguish.

"I walked around a lot," he winced, "don't ask me where as I've no clue. I drank a bit too much, smoked a bit too much and then by some miracle found my way back here and crashed in another hotel room. I just needed space. I didn't even think for a second that you guys would be worrying about me; I hadn't even contemplated it."

"London's not exactly the safest place to be wandering the streets," Joey pointed out. "And in the state you were in… I'm just glad you're ok, man."

"Thanks," he swallowed, looking down for a moment. "Oh, um, apparently I booked my room for two nights so I was thinking of just crashing there again tonight if that's cool? I need an early one and…"

"Yeh! That's awesome!"

Chandler raised an eyebrow at Joey's enthusiasm causing the Italian to look a little sheepish.

"See, originally I was gonna get with Felicity and I saw her this morning and she's still interested. She was telling me about things we could do with strawberries and now that the party has finished early I was thinking…well, that she could teach me to like fruit."

Chandler couldn't help but chuckle. Joey would always be Joey and he was fine with that. More than fine with that.

"I'll get out of your hair then," he grinned standing up.

"You don't have to go _now_ ," Joey protested. "Do you see any British chicks or strawberries?"

"It's fine," Chandler promised with a smile. "I kinda wanna talk to Monica anyhow, plus see how Rachel's doing with everything."

Joey nodded as Chandler turned, "hey," Joey called taking a couple of steps towards him and pulling him into a man hug.

Chandler grinned hugging back for a moment, "we're ok," he promised slapping his back. Joey nodded and stepped away.

"See ya later," he promised to which Chandler grinned and nodded before leaving.

Chandler leant back against the door, closing his eyes for a moment. He was so relieved that it had gone ok, but now there was a new guilt. He felt guilty for causing them to suffer; especially _her_. It was ironic that they'd both had the night from hell yesterday, unknowingly caused by each other.

The time for pain and guilt was over. He was determined to talk to her and find a way that they could forgive and forget last night and move forwards, hopefully together.

* * *

Chandler knocked lightly on Monica's door, pleased when she pulled it open and ushered him inside. Rachel was sat in the middle of the bed talking on the phone. His eyes fell back to Monica and noticed that she had changed out of the red dress and into jeans and a more casual top. She still looked beautiful to him.

He smiled at her. She smiled at him.

"Well, I'm telling you, it might have meant something," Rachel argued with whoever was on the other end of the line, "he's been obsessed with me since 9th grade. Who knows exactly when it started but…"

"Phoebe," Monica whispered to him and he nodded. That made sense. "She's already been on for 15 minutes and I'm pretty sure she's using my phone-line."

Chandler couldn't help but let out a little laugh. After everything that had happened this weekend, after everything that was _still_ happening this weekend, he loved that this was what she focused on.

"Don't ever change, Mon," he grinned and she grinned back, unsure if he was just making fun of her.

"No, it's just _Chandler_ ," he heard Rachel say and he merely shrugged a little, well used to being 'just Chandler' as far as the girls were concerned. Although, he desperately prayed that he'd paid his dues and luck was going to change for him and he'd be more than 'just Chandler' for one of the girls. "She wants to speak with you."

Chandler frowned as Rachel held out the phone, contemplating for the briefest of moments not taking it from her. He wasn't looking forward to this. Joey had said that Phoebe had been consoling Monica last night. She must know everything and probably wasn't the most pleased with him. Swallowing, he braced himself and took a few steps over to the side of the bed and reluctantly took the receiver, standing somewhat awkwardly.

"Hey Pheebs," he greeted, trying to sound as casual and relaxed as possible. He didn't pull it off. "H-how are you?"

"Stressed from all this drama!" Phoebe complained down the phone. "This is the last time I let the 5 of you go away by yourselves. It's caused me nothing but trouble and believe me the 3 babies are doing enough of that by themselves. And don't even get me started on the Duck's behaviour."

"Sorry Pheebs," he answered automatically.

"You should be," she grumbled. "So how are you?" she questioned. "Have you sorted everything out with Joey and Monica? You aren't gonna go AWOL again right? Cause I swear I will walk to London and –"

"I'm not going anywhere," Chandler promised chastened. "Everything's fine now."

"Really?" She sounded surprised. "So are you sure? You're a known flight risk and-"

"I'm not leaving the hotel tonight. I promise."

"Do you even know how worried we were?" she continued as if he hadn't spoken. "You shouldn't worry a pregnant lady, what if the stress had caused my waters to break and the herd to be born early?"

Herd?

"Um…"

"Who would have got me down the stairs? What if-"

"Pheebs? You're breaking up," he lied interrupting her, "Oh Pheebs? Pheebs? I cant hear...gone." He hung up and turned to face the girls. "Must have been a tunnel," he shrugged with a boyish smile.

"Chandler, I hadn't finished talking to her," Rachel complained unamused, as Monica grinned and silently mouthed a 'thank you' on behalf of her phone bill.

"Sorry," he lied again. "So, how are you doing, Rachel?" he changed the subject, studying her with a critical eye. She seemed to look a little better than she had this morning, although that may have just been because he was in a better place. The whole world looked just that little bit brighter now he had some hope.

"I'm fine," she shrugged, still obviously a little annoyed by the whole Phoebe thing.

He raised a skeptical eyebrow at her and she sighed in defeat.

"Ok, so it's been a weird day," she admitted, "and Ross got married to the British chippy," Chandler blinked in surprise by the term but remained silent as Rachel continued on, "but he said my name. _My_ name. His current wife isn't talking to him and he said _my_ name at the altar. I think it all means something."

"It might," Chandler shrugged honestly, as he remembered Ross' gaze on her before the ceremony started. He'd thought at the time it might mean something.

"What?" Monica asked surprised. "You honestly think that?"

"I'm just saying it's possible," he held his hands up in defense as he shrugged. " _But_ he did get married and knowing Ross he's going to do everything to try and save his marriage. Sorry Rach."

She nodded, sensing the truth in his words. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and Chandler looked away. This morning they'd both been in the same horrible, miserable place. He felt almost guilty now that he wasn't there anymore; that he had that little bit of hope to hold onto and had abandoned her alone in hell.

"Sorry," he murmured again and she looked up meeting his honest eyes and she understood what he was saying.

"Don't be," Rachel shook her head. "I'm gonna be ok. I know he's married but I don't feel we're _over_."

"He's married, Rach," Monica insisted.

"I know," Rachel stated, "and I'm not going to do anything while he's married but I'm gonna hold on to my gut feeling that tells me he won't be married for long."

Chandler couldn't disagree with that. It certainly wasn't sounding like the start of a good marriage.

"I-"

The phone started to ring and all three looked at it. Despite being the furthest from the receiver it was Monica that walked over and picked it up.

"Hello? Oh, hi Phoebe."

"Hey," Rachel whispered to Chandler. "I'm glad it's working out for one of us at least."

Chandler offered her a shy smile, "thanks," he nodded in appreciation of her strength. "I wish it could work out for both of us."

"Thanks," she touched his arm briefly, "and thanks for helping me get through this morning. Part of me wasn't even sure I could go through with the ceremony."

This morning. He couldn't believe how much had changed since then. How much _everything_ had changed.

"We helped each other," Chandler promised and she nodded in agreement.

"Go talk to Monica," Rachel insisted. "I'll chat with Phoebe and then get an early night."

Chandler was about to argue when Monica held the phone out to Rachel.

"She's wants to talk to you again."

"Thanks," Rachel took the phone from her, "and Chandler wants to talk to you so I'll see you later."

"Ok," Monica rubbed her arm briefly before turning to face Chandler with a bright smile.

"Aren't you worried about your phone bill?" he whispered as Rachel started up the conversation where she'd left off…at 9th grade.

"Nope," Monica grinned as she started to head out of the room, "she's over at yours with the chick and duck."

Chandler groaned as he followed her out. Just great.

"So," Monica said after a few moments of silence, "do you fancy going for a walk or a drink or-"

"I'm never drinking again," Chandler deadpanned. "I may very well go teetotal after this weekend."

She chuckled, nudging his shoulder with hers, "I'll believe that when I see it."

He smiled back at her, his blue eyes sparkling as he remembered their almost kiss.

"How about we just go back to my room?" he winced as he realized just how that sounded. "I mean, not to do _that_ just to talk and hangout. See, I did enough walking around London last night and I don't know about you but I'm still recovering and London's busy and noisy and-"

"Chandler," she stopped walking to turn and face him. Her hands coming to rest on his arms, her fingers lightly stroking the shirt-covered skin, causing goosebumps in their wake. He looked questioningly at her, trying to ignore the sensations coursing through him. "Your room sounds great."

"Ok," his face broke into a blinding smile as his eyes ran over her face, "great."

He continued to stare at her, her fingers continued to slowly torture him as she stared back. He swallowed, his arms coming to her waist, his fingers at her hips. His thumbs gently returned the favor, brushing lightly against the bare skin that was exposed between her top and jeans. He watched her swallow and memories of their almost kiss filled his mind. His breathing quickened and he tugged her gently bringing her closer. Her hands slid up his arm and around his neck, her fingers teasing his hair. It felt so good. He closed his eyes in anticipation.

But, the moment was broken as some over-hyped up kids came running down the corridor, practically bouncing off the walls and barging past the couple.

"See," Chandler murmured quietly, swallowing hard as he stepped away, "London is busy and noisy."

"Sure," she chuckled, running a hand through her hair, she looked a little flush. After composing herself, she looped her arm in his. He couldn't help but smile at her, loving how comfortable they were with each other. How strong their friendship was. They had a lot to talk about. He knew this was going to be an important conversation, one of the most important in his life. He wanted to apologize for last night, heal both their wounds and then talk about the future.

Their future. He was pretty confident after that, that she wanted the same thing.

He swallowed, butterflies starting to flutter in his stomach as he realized this was it. This was really it.

"Come on," she tugged lightly on his arm, breaking him out of his musings, "we better get to that room of yours before we get interrupted again," she started to walk down the corridor.

"Yes ma'am," he grinned, the butterflies instantly leaving his stomach as he allowed himself to be tugged along.

This may be _it_ , but with Monica, _it_ didn't seem half as scary as it should.

* * *

TBC...

A/N- I promise the talk is coming soon! Again, thanks so much for reading and reviewing. Each one is much appreciated.


	9. Silver and gold will be stolen away

A/N- Apologies for the delay with this chapter. I've been a little poorly and icky- who gets ill in the summer? I hope there aren't too many mistakes but I'm still not 100% so forgive any errors! Anyhow, I hope you enjoy...

* * *

"So..." Chandler began, as they entered his hotel room, unsure of where to even start. His brief moment of earlier confidence, was fast fading now that they were actually here preparing for _the_ talk. The one talk that could potentially change both of their lives.

He swallowed. Crap, this was scary stuff.

She passed him and he watched as she critically took in his room for a second time. Her eyes fell to where the empty cigarette packets and bottle of whiskey had previously resided. He was suddenly very grateful that he'd taken the time to remove them. Another reminder of last night's pain gone, erased permanently. Even the suffocating smoke had mostly dissipated; there was now a freshness to the room, a cool breeze fluttering against the blinds.

It felt like a different room, a different stage from their earlier discussion. The discussion that had started to heal his wounds and given him hope. They could do this.

"How did it go with Joey?"

A hint of nervousness wavered in her voice, proving she was also anxious, however, he could also detect a trace of desperation, a need to know the outcome of the boys' conversation. Obviously, she hadn't quite believed him before when he'd told her it was going to be ok. Joey was like a brother to him; they wouldn't fall out over something like this. There was no foul-play; no time-outs in stupidly large boxes needed this time round.

They really were fine.

Water under the bridge.

"It went good," he reassured, as he closed the door softly behind them. "We're ok."

"Thank god," she let out a shaky breath, which caused Chandler to frown. He hated how much guilt was still surrounding them at the moment; it seemed to cling to their every fibre, unable to let go. With a sigh, he walked into her personal space and pulled her into a gentle hug. Closing his eyes as he embraced her, a hand reassuringly stroking her hair as he rocked them slightly in what he hoped was a comforting way.

They could get through the guilt and misunderstandings.

"I told you, me and Joey are fine," he whispered into her ear. "There's no bad blood over this, we are really ok. Completely fine."

She nodded against his chest and Chandler tightened his hold on her. He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head, letting his lips linger slightly, before resting his cheek there. He held her, soaking in her presence; he couldn't believe it was less than 24 hours ago that he'd thought he'd lost her completely. Thought that he'd never hold her like this again.

He shuddered, pulling her even closer and clinging to her. He wouldn't lose her. He drew in strength and reassured himself at the same time that this was real. That last night had been the nightmare and this was reality. She was actually here; actually with him.

She pulled back slightly looking into his eyes; he let her. The blue intense pools reflected back at him.

He had helped her guilt and now it was his turn for confessions. His turn to dredge up painful discoveries in order to lay them to rest once and for all. Then they could talk about moving forward; discuss a relationship. A relationship built on solid foundations of their friendship. No lies, secrets or guilt. No matter how painful it all was, they had to deal with this now.

He took a deep breath.

"Joey did tell me something that I didn't realize," he ventured quietly, he was almost afraid to break the silence.

He could feel the earlier guilt starting to rise in him again.

"Yeah?" She asked with a frown, staying in his embrace.

"He told me," he swallowed, his voice breaking slightly and her frown deepened.

"What?" her hand came up to brush a cheek comfortingly. "Hey, what is it? What did he say?"

He found her touch soothing for his nerves. Although, the guilt of what he now knew he'd put her through was still strong.

"He told me how worried you were last night about me," he admitted, dropping eye contact. "I really didn't know. I-I had no idea. I mean, I didn't even realize you'd seen me. I…"

"It's ok," she said quickly, echoing his own reassuring words as her other hand came up to caress his other cheek, framing his worried face. "It's really ok."

He shook his head, not accepting that she could forgive and forget so quickly, "I didn't mean to put you through that. I'd never put you through that deliberately. No matter how much I was hurting."

"And the same goes for me too," she cupped his face tilting his head so he was forced to meet her passionate eyes. " _I_ put _you_ through hell."

He swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers. "You didn't mean too," he pointed out, "you did nothing wrong. You had every right to get with Joey, if you'd wanted to. If I hadn't run off, if I'd hung around I would have seen that nothing happened. We could have talked it through and avoided all this. I'm such an idiot that-"

"Hey," there was enough force in her voice to cause him to frown. "You aren't an idiot Chandler. You were heart broken. You thought you'd witnessed something terrible and you reacted to that. You're human. But you know what, despite everything you _didn't_ run away, you came back. You stayed in London; you came to the wedding; you waited for me to catch up with you at the reception and listened to my confessions. You did all that despite being in a living-nightmare and that proves to me who you are, Chandler. You're braver than you think and you most certainly aren't an idiot."

He swallowed, stunned. Stunned by her intensity, stunned by her passion. Stunned by the fact she actually seemed to believed it.

"I-"

Whatever he was going to say was cut off as she pulled his head down and crashed her lips onto his. It wasn't a gentle first kiss. It was one born from the power and intensity of their over-whelming emotions. He kissed back with the same force. It was hard and deep, both desperate to reassure and reaffirm to the other that they were really here. He tightened his arms around her, pressing her petite body hard against his. He needed to feel her. He felt like he was drowning and she was his only lifeline.

He could feel her hands in his hair, on his back, on his arms, leaving trails of fire. He heard her groan and it sent a shudder through him, right to his core. He made a little noise of his own, loving the feel and taste of her; he couldn't get enough of this woman. As the pain of last night came back he deepened the kiss further, a hand threading into her hair to hold her in place, as his kissed her passionately. Desperate to reassure himself and her that last night was really over. That tonight was what mattered.

Finally they broke apart, breathing heavily as they looked into each other's eyes, silently communicating what they felt. Taking a last look at her thoroughly-kissed lips, Chandler pulled her into another fierce hug, letting their heart rates calm down as he stroked her hair, loving how soft it felt.

They stayed in their embrace for another long moment before they pulled away slightly, staying in each other's arms.

"I'm an idiot for not doing _that_ sooner," he confessed with a stupid grin.

"If _you're_ an idiot, then _I'm_ an idiot too," she admitted with a matching stupid grin. "That was…"

"Wow?" he suggested with a deep chuckle, "I mean... wow."

"Yep," she nodded in agreement. "I daydreamed about kissing you and I had no idea it would feel like that. If I had, _I_ would have jumped _you_ months ago."

He swallowed.

"I wish you had," he admitted, finding the sudden R rated images hard to get out of his head. He _really_ wished she had.

They stared at each other a moment more before she finally looked away.

"I guess we should talk some more," she murmured, looking around the room, looking at anything but him.

"Or, we could do some more of this," he suggested innocently, but he took her laugh and shake of her head to indicate 'no'.

"We should finish talking before we do more of _that_."

She was right he supposed. Now the guilt had been dealt with they needed to talk about 'them'; make sure they were both on the same page. They better be after that kiss because he wouldn't be able to live without experiencing that again. Hopefully regularly. He smiled at the thought.

He watched as she detangled herself from him and removed her shoes, placing them neatly together under the desk chair. Then, much to his amusement, she walked over to the large bed, sitting on it and shuffling backwards so she was leaning with her back against the headboard.

"Wanna join?" she asked patting the space beside her on the bed cover.

"Inviting me to my own bed?" he grinned despite nodding eagerly, kicking off his shoes and quickly joining her.

He sat close enough for their shoulders to touch, letting them bump slightly. It was a position that they were both familiar with and he was grateful for it. Their relationship was going into the unknown, unfamiliar territory, so he welcomed this small comfort. He loved that he could fall back on the strength of their friendship.

"Ok," Monica started, taking a deep breath before taking his hand in hers. "I know you really liked me," she started to play with his fingers and he let her. Staying silent as he watched her try to form her words. He was a little unsure as to why she was using past tense. "And," she continued, "I know that I really, really hurt you last night."

Chandler swallowed but forced himself to remain quiet. She obviously needed to get this out.

"I guess I, um, I need to know…have I hurt you too much with going to Joey? I mean, I know you said you forgive me for putting you through that but do you still like me enough to try 'this', I mean 'us'? I know that kiss was amazing but I wouldn't blame you if-"

"Mon," he interrupted, a small smile tugging at his lips as he turned to face her, his free hand coming to caress her cheek. "I'm _crazy_ about you," his smile grew as he watched her face light up.

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"I'm pretty crazy about you too," she confessed.

He actually felt a little giddy and light-headed. Part of him wasn't sure this was actually happening.

"Good, because I'm utterly and totally nutso about you," he grinned before swallowing, "last night hurt, I won't lie. I was in a very bad place and I hope I never have to go through something like that again, but it only hurt so much because I care about you so much. I can't tell you how grateful I am that you _didn't_ sleep with Joey. That would have been hard to get over but if it meant being in a relationship with you, I would have tried. I'm pretty sure I'd try anything to be with you. I've wanted this for so long, wanted _you_ for so long. Last night doesn't change that. Nothing you could ever do could change that.

"God," she chuckled, flushing, her eyes shimmering. "You sure know how to make a girl speechless."

Him?

"Yeah?" he grinned, trying not to sound cocky, "really?"

"Uh huh," she smiled, "those romance novels must run in your genes."

He chuckled, "let's hope that's the _only_ thing I inherited from my parents or we're in trouble."

She chuckled back but her eyes were still suspiciously bright; he leant behind him to grab a tissue from the nightstand.

"Here," he said gently, offering it to her.

"Thanks," she dabbed at her eyes lightly.

"We both got hurt last night, Mon, but we need to forgive and forget. To move past this and move forwards, together."

New tears were forming in her eyes but he hoped they were ones of happiness. He let her wipe her eyes before he leant forward and kissed her. It was a lot softer and gentler than their first kiss. They unhurriedly explored each others' mouths, reveling that they could finally do this. No guilt, no strings, just them. Just this.

When the kiss ended Monica smiled at him brightly and it caused his heart to skip a beat.

Wow.

"I want to move forwards too," she promised. "I can't wait...and it'll be the last time I say this but I am sorry."

"Me too," he nodded with a little grin before leaning over and kissing her again. He was fast getting addicted to her kisses. How soft her lips were, the way they moved beneath his, the way she tasted. God it was amazing. She was amazing. He felt her hand trace his cheek before her fingers moved down his neck, playing with the top button of his shirt. Things were getting a little heated so Chandler pulled away regretfully.

"Um...," he captured her hand with his, halting its movement, "as much as I've dreamt about this moment, you know _us_ doing _that,_ I'm still a little hungover and exhausted and…well, I don't think I'm quite 'up' for it and I don't want our first time to be…well, less than spectacular."

To his relief she merely giggled, blushed and tucked her head in the nook of his shoulder. She removed her hand from his clasp and patted his chest.

"That's ok," she smiled. "I'm pretty exhausted myself. I didn't get much sleep last night either."

He nodded in understanding.

"It's a shame though to waste such a big bed," he quipped loving when she laughed.

"There's always the morning," her voice sounded seductive and he groaned, blood rushing through him once more. He felt the newly freed hand on his thigh and suddenly needed to close his eyes for a moment to gain control. She was a cruel woman.

"Uh, how about a movie?" he tried, not wanting her to leave but needing something to cool the situation.

"A movie sounds good," she admitted, reaching over to grab the options card from the bedside table. Flipping it over in her hands, she studied it before offering it to him. "How about My Giant?"

"Joey's favorite," he grinned as he settled back against the headboard.

She selected the movie and then to his delight snuggled up into his side. With warm fuzzy feelings running through him, he placed an arm around her and pulled her closer into his embrace. He planted a kiss on the top of her head, nuzzling her hair and enjoying the mild scent of her apple shampoo.

He glanced at the clock on the night stand. This time last night was when it all started; a nightmare in another hotel room. It seemed like a lifetime ago. It was hard to believe that in one day so much had changed.

It had been a complete roller-coaster ride of emotions for the pair of them. He was a strange mixture of exhausted, buzzing and completely content. Content. He hadn't felt like that for a long time. He'd never have believed that tonight would have ended with this outcome. Of all the outcomes he had played through his mind last night, of all the possible endings for this weekend, this hadn't been one.

He'd be forever grateful it had played out like this. There was a 'them' now.

What had happened last night had happened and what hadn't thankfully hadn't. It was time to move on…move on with her.

* * *

TBC...

I hope it was worth the wait. Please let me know your thoughts :o)


	10. Set a man to watch all night

"Ooh, everyone would hate to sit behind you at the cinema," Monica grinned proudly, "They'd probably throw popcorn at the back of your head or something."

She reached down to grab a handful of their own makeshift popcorn...a bag of 'crisps' from the minibar.

"Good one," Chandler pulled his attention away from the film to look over at her and smiled appreciatively. "Ok, my turn," he continued their silly game, "uh…every pair of pants you owned would be like shorts."

He smiled smugly as he helped himself to a potato chip.

"I dunno if that counts as being a _bad_ thing," she teased, "it could be a good thing in the summer."

"So, it's a _seasonal_ disadvantage of being a giant," he rolled his eyes good-naturedly, his sock-covered foot nudging hers. "It still counts as a reason why it would suck to be that tall."

"Maybe," She chuckled and his smugness doubled, loving that he could make her laugh so easily. He was loving this, just the two of them hanging out together and having fun. Not that they didn't do this often, because they did, but tonight it was different...tonight it had a little bit of delicious flirting mixed in. Sure, he was in another country, had flown miles to get here and he should probably be out there absorbing the historical British culture and admiring the foreign landmarks to be seen in this foreign city. But he wasn't and he couldn't care less.

Honest to God, there was no place on this earth he'd rather be than right here in this fancy hotel room...with _her_.

"Come on, your turn Ms Geller."

She looked thoughtful for a moment, her eyes sparkling and a cute little frown creasing her forehead as she came up with her next idea.

"How about...hugging people? It must suck having to bend down so far- you'd get awful backache."

He nodded, impressed, he hadn't even considered that. A part of him was suddenly very grateful for his average height; at least he had no problems ever hugging her. Which was a good thing as he liked hugging her; _really_ liked hugging her and planned to be doing lots of it in his near future.

"You go," she instructed laughing as he playfully batted her hand away from the quickly diminishing pile of potato chips. He nabbed another one for himself as he looked at the movie playing on the hotel's television for inspiration.

"Um, your choice of career would be pretty limited," he pointed out. "You'd have to be a player of some sort of sports, like basketball or beach volleyball...I mean you wouldn't even fit behind an average office desk."

"I guess," she agreed with a shrug, "but I think being a basketball player is many guys' _dream_. Your pick of women, lots of money, fame…it's gotta beat working in an office any day."

"True," he mused thinking about his own office which, thankfully, was many miles away. He glanced at the giant on the screen which made Billy Crystal look like a kindergartener. He couldn't imagine anyone like that ever fitting into his office. The giant, Billy Crystal or the kindergartener. What weird job interviews they would be...

"How about the fact you could never wear heels," she suggested, pulling him away from his bizarre thoughts and back to their even more bizarre conversation.

"That would only affect _female_ giants," he teased loving her playful side and stoking her competitive nature. "If seasonal disadvantages gets questioned then you definitely can't have gender specific ones."

She huffed a little, going in for another chip. With a smirk Chandler blocked her hand, ignoring her protest as he successfully grabbed the snack for himself. Bingo. He knew a cheeky glint was in his eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows cockily, confidently bringing his prize closer to his grinning lips. He was playing with fire.

He watched as she narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth, fully expecting some sort of insult to be hurled his way.

"Cross-dressing giants."

What?

"Huh?" He frowned and blinked. Pausing in mid-action he unknowingly reacted exactly how Monica had hoped.

With a smile she reached out quickly and grasped his wrist, holding it prisoner. Meeting his questioning gaze with her own smirk, she leaned down slowly, capturing the chip and the tips of his fingers playfully with her lips.

He swallowed, frozen, all his attention riveted on this gorgeous lips. The nerve-endings on his fingertips were tingling, sending shivers through his body as he stared at her. He couldn't take his eyes of her as he held his breath awaiting her next move. Then, he felt her teeth grazing his sensitive skin as they slowly bit down on their target. He couldn't hold back the quiet groan that escaped his lips at the sensations.

Monica pulled away excruciatingly slowly, maintaining eye-contact as she sat back up. A wicked gleam in her eyes as she chewed happily; she knew exactly what she had done to him. And he loved it. He should play with fire more often.

"High heels; it's a valid answer as both genders may wish to wear heels."

"W-what?" he had no idea what she was talking about, staring dumbfounded as she laughed at him. Huh.

"High heels," she reminded him cheerfully, "for the game. It counts, it unisex so I win."

Oh.

"Playing dirty?" he challenged with a small grin.

"Me? Never," she tried to sound innocent but failed miserably.

He watched as she grabbed another potato chip, surprised as she held it out to him as a peace-offering. Slowly, he leaned forward trying to mimic what she'd done a moment ago and be all sexy; he suspected he was failing. When he had the food in his mouth her fingers softly caressed his lips, lingering there before moving down his neck, her nails lightly grazing his skin, causing it to burn.

Oh Dear Lord. On pure instinct he chewed quickly and swallowed hard, thoughts of losing the game long forgotten. He'd happily lose any game if it meant they got to do this. She was still smiling as she claimed his lips with hers.

Her lips were soft as they sensually kissed him, slowly drawing it out. It was a sweet torture and he responded to her seduction. There were goosebumps on his skin as he felt her fingers teasing the tips of his hair. His blood was rushing south, enjoying it too much and he eventually managed to rip himself away. Closing his eyes he rested the back of his head against the wall trying to recover.

"Damn, you're good at that," he finally grinned.

"You're not so bad yourself," she praised, cuddling back up to him.

Her fingers lightly traced patterns on his shirt as he tried to get back into the movie, surprised to see the end credits of My Giant starting to roll. Huh.

"Want me to put another one on?" she asked gesturing towards the tv as she reached for the remote.

"Sure," he smiled, content as he hugged her to him and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

Maybe they'd actually get to watch more of the next movie.

* * *

As the second movie came to an end, Monica tried to keep her body still as her hand fumbled around on the bed for the remote control; finding it, she gently turned the volume down. Chandler had fallen asleep a while ago, his arm still around her as he snored softly. God, he was adorable.

She was content to stay snuggled in his embrace for a moment longer just enjoying the feeling of being in his arms. Chandler's arms. Monica couldn't believe how right it felt being here with him, like this. So natural. Almost like she belonged here.

Carefully, she moved her head to see the illuminous digits on the small clock on the bedside cabinet. It was past midnight. This time last night she'd been in the beginnings of hell, but not tonight. Tonight had been the opposite. An honest talk leading to amazing kisses and then the perfect night just unwinding and enjoying being in each other's company. It had been so relaxing and silly that it had been just what she'd needed. Just perfect. Such a contrast to the horrors of last night.

Sighing happily, she tightened her hold on him, vowing to never hurt him like she had last night. In response, she heard him mumble something and tighten his own hold on her. That little action made her smile widely - that even unconscious he wanted to be close to her.

She enjoyed his embrace for a moment more, letting the feelings of contentedness and warmth surround her. As much as she wanted to stay like this forever, in reality she should probably make a move. It was late and they had a long day of travelling ahead of them. Although, she was looking forward to the flight home now - 6 hours next to him, that's a whole lot of Chandler.

As gently as possible, she tried to maneuver out of his protective arms but he held her tighter, murmuring his disapproval. She placed a soft kiss on his forehead before trying again, wiggling slightly as he slowly stirred.

"Where're you going?" he murmured sleepily.

"Bathroom, then back to my room," she informed him quietly placing a peck of a kiss on his lips, "it's getting late and Rachel will wonder where I am."

"She knows you're with me," he protested, his eyes still closed, his arms still firmly holding her in place. "Stay."

"It's late, honey, and we need sleep."

The term of endearment slipped easily from her lips in the lateness and intimacy of the hour. It seemed to fit.

"Stay," he repeated. "Sleep here. With me."

A grin tugged at her lips and she brought a hand up to gently stroke through his mussed hair. Sleepy Chandler was _beyond_ cute.

"I'd love to but-"

"Mon," he opened his sleepy eyes and met hers, "please stay," his tone changed, slightly more serious. "I…I need you to…" he swallowed, ducking his head and she frowned.

"Chandler?" she asked questioningly, stroking his soft hair again before caressing his slightly stubbled cheek, "are you ok?"

He nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat but remaining silent.

"Hey?" she pushed slightly.

"I-I _need_ you to stay, please" he confessed quietly, "I need to sleep with you in my arms as proof that I haven't lost you, that you're here. Last night was so horrible and this evening so great. I need to know when I wake up that I didn't imagine all this and that it's real."

A soft smile broke out on her face, fully understanding, "I'd like that too," she promised as he met her eyes, "but I really do need to pee."

He chuckled and reluctantly released her. As she used the bathroom he shrugged off his shirt and kicked off his pants as he crawled under the covers. Doing much else seemed far too much effort.

She reappeared moments later and hovered by the door, "do you have anything I can sleep in?" she asked hesitantly.

"Anything in the main compartment bit is still clean," he gestured sleepily to his case that he hadn't bothered to unpack the second time around.

"Thanks," she flashed him a small smile of gratitude and rummaged through his suitcase as instructed. "Did you bring enough condoms?" she joked as she found the unopened jumbo box.

"Always be prepared," he mumbled.

She snorted.

"Boy scout," Monica teased as she grabbed a well-worn grey t-shirt and the box of condoms. She placed the latter item onto the nightstand and noticed his questioning look. "For the morning...just in case...see, I can be prepared too."

She winked and he swallowed.

With a slight grin she headed to the small bathroom. She pulled the t-shirt over her head, loving the scent of Chandler which clung to the fabric. It was soft, so soft against her skin. As she pulled it down her fingers felt a small tear near the bottom of the hem. She studied it idly; it must be a well-worn and well-loved tee. She smiled, loving how intimate it felt to be wearing it.

Still smiling she exited the bathroom and saw Chandler was lying facing her. He was obviously trying hard to keep his eyes open, barely winning the battle. His hair was completely disheveled and the thought that he'd never looked more cute crossed her mind.

"You look cute in that," he smiled sleepily, unknowingly copying her thoughts on him, "I like it."

"Me too," she admitted, climbing into the large bed and shuffling so she met him in the middle; thrilled that his arms automatically wrapped around her. It all felt just so right, being in his arms, wearing his t-shirt, being in his hotel bed. She was surrounded by _him_ and she allowed herself to just relax and enjoy it.

She could hardly contain her smile as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her hair and mumbled good-night.

"'Night sweetie," she whispered, knowing he was already sleep.

She tightened her hold on him protectively, letting his calming presence wipe away the last traces of guilt from last night. They were here together and that's what counted.

She liked sleeping with Chandler.

* * *

As consciousness slowly started to find Chandler he became aware that he wasn't alone. Cracking open an eye a rush of emotions swept through him as he found Monica sleeping in his arms, her hair lightly tickling his chin. Memories of last night came flooding back as a large smile spread across his face. This _was_ real; actually real. She was here, she was really here with him. She wanted to be with _him_. They were going to start what he suspected was going to be a frigging awesome relationship together. God, he felt giddy just thinking about it.

The clock informed him it was still stupidly early but he knew he wouldn't get back to sleep, not with Monica being this close to him. Her warm body pressed against him was starting to have an effect on his own; he was definitely awake enough now to do what he'd so desperately wanted to do with her earlier. He wondered if Monica would still be game. She had been the one to place the condoms in easy reach. Still…there was only one way to find out...

She was facing away from him, her back molded to his front, his arms around her waist. They fit together so well. He gently pulled her tighter against him and placed the lightest of butterfly kisses on her shoulder through the t-shirt. When she didn't stir he continued, placing another feather light kiss next to the first. Still nothing. Slowly he trailed soft kisses along her shoulder, finally reaching her exposed skin. Still unhurried, he moved up to her neck, raining gentle kisses on her delicate skin, pleased as she started to wake up.

He grinned, nuzzling her neck a little harder as a content sigh escaped her lips. Slowly his hands gently stroked her mid-drift through the t shirt. God, he loved that she had gone to sleep wearing his clothes. There was just something about that which was so sexy to him. He kept his caress gentle, not daring to move his hands any higher or lower just yet. She sighed again, her eyes fluttering open as he moved his lips to her ear.

"Morning," he breathed against the sensitive skin, placing the lightest of kisses there, relishing at the deep shiver that went through her entire body.

"Morning yourself," she returned a large smile covering her face as she stretched slightly, the action causing her body to press harder against him.

It was his turn to groan.

"I see someone's a little more awake," she teased as she rolled over to face him, her arms slipping around his neck, their bodies fully touching.

"Very awake," he admitted as he took her in. She looked beautiful first thing in the morning. Her dark hair was tussled, spread across the white pillow. Her eyes were sparkling, her lips smiling so happily that he couldn't resist leaning forwards and capturing them for a good morning kiss.

It soon turned sensual as lips caressed lips, bodies pressed against bodies and hands eagerly explored. His heart was beating rapidly as they fused together. His skin felt on fire wherever her hands touched and he groaned, pulling her tighter. He couldn't get enough of her. His hands slid underneath the large t shirt to stroke the soft skin of her back. She sighed in pleasure at the contact and it went straight through him.

The kiss became harder, probing and he felt her hands slid under his own t-shirt, coming to touch his chest before moving to his back tracing up his spine. God, it felt amazing. All his nerves ending were tingling, ultra-aware of her fingers, of her body.

His own hands moved a little higher, lightly grazing the edge of her breasts with his thumbs. She groaned into his mouth, encouraging him. He broke off the kiss, breathing heavily as he looked at her flushed face.

"God, you're beautiful," he whispered.

She smiled in return, clearly lost for words. That was ok.

He pulled back slightly to sit up as she did the same. He placed his hands at the bottom of her t-shirt, tracing along the hem lightly, finding the little tear that was there. Oh-so slowly he pulled it up and over her head. Swallowing as he took her in.

"Incredibly beautiful," he corrected in awe.

Slowly, he leant in for another kiss, one hand on the back of her head as the other rested on her ribs before gradually moving upwards to explore her body.

He'd always thought that their first time together would probably involve some element of awkwardness. That they'd been friends for so long that it might feel a little weird at first until they got used to it and each other.

How he'd been wrong, so very wrong. They felt so right together, so good; like they should have been doing this for years. Their natural chemistry crackled between them, their instincts guiding them. Chandler vowed to commit every little memory to detail. Loving every sound of pleasure, memorizing every curve and sensitive piece of skin he found. He wanted to worship her, make her feel beautiful and cherished.

He liked waking up with Monica.

TBC...

* * *

A/N - and that's as close to M rated as I've ever gone, so do let me know if it worked or if I suck at it!

Thanks so much for all your reviews and support- you guys are totally amazing :o)


	11. Suppose the man should fall asleep

"I should probably go now," Monica sighed into the pillow.

Chandler cracked open a worried eye at her words, but smiled when he realized her own eyes were still firmly closed and she was making no effort to move. Satisfied, he closed his eyes again, tightening his arms around her waist, just in case she tried any attempt to escape.

A few contented moments passed them by. Silence as they just held each other. He was loving the feel of having her in his arms, in his bed. He was loving London.

"I really should go," she tried again, breaking him from his delightful musings.

He wasn't pleased at her words, but was pleased that her voice lacked any real conviction. She still didn't try to untangle from their embrace, which had to be a promising sign.

"Stay," he whispered as he placed a soft kiss to her soft lips, hearing her sigh happily. Taking that as encouragement, he pressed his lips a little firmer to hers, pleased when she responded, kissing him back. Pure bliss.

"I really need to leave," Monica broke the kiss and they both opened their eyes. "I have things I need to do before we head back to the airport and it's already past 8."

"I know," he murmured, still staring into those blue eyes, completely captivated by them; completely captivated by _her._

Her face was flushed, her eyes sparkling and her naked body was pressed against his. It was an image he never wanted to forget. Unable to resist he leaned forward and kissed her again, slightly harder this time. One of his hands left her back and came to stroke through her hair to hold her in place as he continued to kiss her.

"I need to check on Rachel," she protested, pulling back slightly, placing her hands on his bare chest. They burned. He was breathing heavily and was pleased to see she was doing the same. Just as affected by this as he was.

"Of course you do," he agreed, the hand on her back started to stroke up and down her spine and she shivered.

"And I need to see my parents before they leave."

"Oh absolutely," he pressed his lips firmly to hers again, needing to taste her.

The kiss fast became passionate and demanding. He felt the hands on his chest move to his neck and hair.

"I need to pack," she protested weakly, her eyes closed as she returned the kissed, pressing her body firmly against his as she melted a little more.

"Uh huh," he murmured against her lips.

"And I need a shower," she continued, her hands caressing him and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

"Hmmm," he tried to respond, getting too caught up in their make-out session and the feelings she was evoking to pay much attention to her arguments.

"And there may be a queue at the front desk to check out," she gasped as his hands roamed her body. Exploring the feel of her smooth skin.

"Hmmm," he agreed, moving to kiss her neck.

She groaned and at that moment he knew he'd won.

"I guess it can wait for a little while longer," she conceded.

"Most definitely," he agreed smiling against her skin. He liked winning. Liked it very much if she was the prize.

Without warning, he rolled them over quickly, kissing her harder. He loved the feel of her petite body beneath him.

The real world could definitely wait for a little while longer...

* * *

Chandler took a deep breath as he knocked on the hotel door in front of him. It was opened seconds later.

"Emily?"

"Not quite, I left my vagina back in New York," he tried to joke as Ross rolled his eyes and let him into his lonely honeymoon suite. "I, uh, take it you still haven't heard from her?"

"No," Ross sighed heavily. "I've been trying to call her all night. I tried going round there but her parents wouldn't let me in. They won't even tell me if she's in there."

"I'm sorry," Chandler offered, not really knowing what else to say.

"What are you doing here anyway?" Ross asked taking a seat on the couch, Chandler joined him.

"I wanted to see how you were doing and apologize…for bailing on you yesterday," he admitted uncomfortably. "I, uh, wasn't doing too well, but I should have been there for you..."

"Nah, it's fine," Ross offered a half smile. "You looked like hell…I'm surprised you made it through the actual ceremony."

"Well, it was too entertaining to miss," he quipped lightly.

Ross nodded, reluctantly accepting he was going to be the butt of some future jokes. He ran a hand through his over-gelled hair, making it look even worse than it already did, "I still can't believe I've screwed this up already," he sighed. "I can't believe I actually said the wrong name. Who does that? At their wedding?"

"Hey," Chandler put a hand on his shoulder. "You made a mistake, you're _human_ man."

"Some mistake," Ross scoffed, shaking his head. "You know, when I woke up this morning I thought it was all a dream…until it all came flooding back to me."

They stayed in silence for a moment and Chandler tried to not think about how _he'd_ woken up this morning. How happy he'd been that yesterday _hadn't_ been a dream. That she actually wanted to be with him as much as he wanted to be with her. That he'd spent the whole night with her and had woken up beside her. That he'd made love to her...that it had been _so_ damn good.

He felt Ross turn towards him and could feel his gaze on him. He was studying him and Chandler didn't like it.

"You certainly seem a lot better," Ross commented curiously.

Chandler panicked, swallowing hard, he quickly wiped what he was sure was a goofy smile from his face. He tried pulling off what he hoped was a more neutral innocent expression; as Ross continued to narrow his eyes at him he realized he was failing badly. Crap.

"I am," he finally agreed carefully, praying his friend wouldn't try and delve any deeper.

"A lot _lot_ better," Ross frowned not hearing or answering Chandler's prayers. He could practically see the cogs turning in Ross' head as he did the math. Double crap. "My god, did you actually hook up with somebody at my wedding?"

Triple crap. How did he get into these situations? He'd only wanted to check on his friend. To make the effort to see that he was alright and this was how karma repaid him. Just great.

"I, um," Chandler wet his lips desperately, as much as he'd love to have Ross' approval and didn't want to keep any secrets from him, he knew now wasn't the time. The man was possibly facing his second divorce on his second day of being married. He didn't need to be told that Chandler had hooked up with his little sister, "maybe, but…."

"Wow," Ross blinked in surprised, before shrugging slightly. "Well, just don't expect me to be too happy for you right now, ok?"

"Sure," Chandler agreed instantly. More than happy with that deal.

There was a silence for the moment and Chandler wondered if he was going to drop it. He wasn't.

"I just can't believe you had more sex than I did on my wedding night," he commented sarcastically.

"Let's not focus on that," Chandler winced. He figured pointing out to Ross that it was this morning and not last night wouldn't help. Especially, if he ever learnt who he'd been with.

Thankfully, he was saved by the bell…well the door. Ross sprung up and dashed for it and Chandler slowly stood relieved that the conversation was over. He didn't know exactly when they'd tell Ross, probably soon as the others knew but not right now. Definitely not now.

"Emily? Oh, hey," he heard Ross greet disappointedly, before fully opening the door to reveal Monica.

As she walked in he swallowed and their eyes met. Memories of making love to her from just a couple of hours ago still fresh in his mind. The way she'd felt beneath him, her sighs of pleasure, her kisses. God, she drove him crazy. She looked caught in the same spell, the same memories, as her eyes shown brightly and a delicious smile curved on her delicious lips. She was beautiful. He wished he could kiss her, really wished he could.

"My sister?!"

They broke their gaze quickly and turned to an incredulous Ross.

Uh oh.

"Um…" Chandler desperately tried to think of something to say.

"Seriously?" He whined.

"I…"

"God," Ross muttered, "I know it's tradition for the best man to hook up with the bridesmaid, but if anyone was gonna, I would have thought that Joey would-"

"Please don't finish that sentence," Monica begged, shooting Chandler a quick glance. "Look, it's not some drunken thing, it's more than that, ok? We're starting a relationship and we're both adults. You know Chandler's a good guy and you know I'm more than capable of choosing my own boyfriends."

Chandler couldn't help but beam proudly at her words.

"More importantly," she continued, "you have bigger things to worry about right now. Your own relationship for starters. Focus on that, not us."

Ross continued to look at her a moment then his eyes looked back to Chandler. Chandler'snwidened and he swallowed but he remained silent, letting Ross scrutinize him for a moment.

"Fine," Ross finally muttered, sitting back on the large couch dejected. "I guess you're right. I have more important things to be worried about but still..."

"Any news on Emily?" Monica asked joining her brother on the couch, putting a hand on his arm as she redirected the conversation.

"No, none," Ross shook his head. "Why is she doing this? Ignoring me? I mean, we could have stopped the wedding or gone outside to talk or I dunno _something_. To marry me and then run out of the bathroom window and refuse to talk to me…I know she's angry but what does she expect me to do? I can't take it back, I said what I said."

They nodded silently in agreement.

"Am I meant to stay here in England," he continued, "until she talks to me? Am I meant to go home and wait? Am I meant to go to Greece?"

"Greece?" Chandler asked confused. "Why the hell would you go to Greece?"

"Uh, my _honeymoon_ ," Ross replied slightly pissed.

Opps.

"Oh. Right." Chandler should really have paid more attention to his friend's wedding plans.

"There's still time," Monica cut in, taking the focus off of Chandler, he flashed her a smile of gratitude. "She's just angry, she needs time."

"I'd give her time," Ross promised to his sister, "if that what she wants but she needs to tell me."

Chandler grimaced. He hated seeing Ross so depressed, it was bringing back memories of his divorce with Carol and whilst the two had remained amicable because of Ben, Ross had gone to a dark and miserable place back then. It had been hard to watch.

"I know," Monica sighed, rubbing Ross' arm slightly. Chandler wondered if she was also remembering that period in their lives.

Ross nodded but remained silent.

Chandler guessed there wasn't much more any of them could say or do. It wasn't Monica that Ross wanted to or needed to talk to.

It was that moment the door opened and all three heads turned.

"Emily!" Ross exclaimed obviously ecstatic.

"Ross."

It didn't look like Emily was as pleased to see him. Chandler swallowed awkwardly as a tense silence settled over them.

"We better…" Chandler gestured towards the door.

"Yeah," Monica agreed quickly, grabbing his arm and the two of them retreated out into the hallway, closing the door to the not so happy honeymoon suite.

They hovered uncertainly outside.

"That didn't look too good," Chandler ventured with a wince before studying her. She looked upset and Chandler knew she was worried for her brother, hell, he was too, "are you ok?"

She shrugged.

"Hey," he stepped forward and pulled her in for a gentle hug. "It's gonna be ok," he promised. "Whatever happens he'll get through it, he'll be ok. We'll look after him."

"I know," she nodded into his chest. "Can we wait here though? In case he needs us?"

"Sure," he placed a kiss on the top of her head before pulling back.

Figuring they were in for a long wait he settled on the carpeted floor and tugged her down to join him. His arm went around her shoulders as he pulled her into his side. They were both packed and it was a while before they had to be at the airport.

They stayed that way in silence for a while. They couldn't hear any sounds from inside and Chandler briefly wondered if the honeymoon suite had some sort of soundproofing…for different reasons.

"At least he didn't get mad about 'us'," Chandler commented, trying to take her mind to a better place. "I had visions of him punching me or something."

She smiled and he was a little pleased it was because of him.

"I guess we aren't being the most subtle," she joked, "I mean Ross isn't exactly known for his observational skills. If he managed to work it out from just a look we must be pretty obvious."

He glanced down at her, his fingers caressing her arms soothingly.

"I'm ok with that," he grinned, "I'm happy for a change, I'm not going to try and hide it."

To be honest he doubted he would be able to hide it. He was dating _Monica._ Actually dating her.

"I'm happy too," she agreed smiling at him for moment, before it gradually faded, "I'm just worried about Ross."

"I know," Chandler promised with a sigh, tightening his arm around her protectively. "I am too, but we can't do much apart from wait right now."

They sat in silence for a while more. Each trying to avoid thinking about what could be happening inside the suite behind them.

"I hate waiting," Monica complained quietly.

"I know a way to pass the time," Chandler quipped wiggling his eyebrows to make it clear what he meant. He wanted to do anything he could to try and cheer her up; to take her mind off her brother and his troubled marriage.

"Chandler!"

He chuckled at her respone, shuffling slightly to face her. A hand running through her soft hair, glad that she had it down, framing her face.

"I just meant a little make-out session," he commented. "We're not exactly in the most private place. I wasn't gonna suggest humping in the hallway."

She laughed and again he was pleased he could lighten her mood, however briefly.

"Humping in the hallway?" she chuckled leaning in to place a quick kiss on his lips, her hand coming up to stroke his cheek. "Why does that sound familiar?"

"Well…" he grinned stealing another kiss from her, "it may feature in Joey's video collection."

She giggled, kissing him again. As she tried to pull away slightly, he protested and followed her, deepening the kiss.

"Aw, look at you two," Rachel commented causing them to pull back embarrassed. "It's enough to make you wanna vomit."

"Hey Rachel," Chandler greeted with an amused smile. He was pretty sure the comment was just because she wasn't the happiest with her own love life just now. At least, he hoped that was the reason. He planned on kissing Monica a lot in the future and certainly didn't want those kinda comments every time he did.

"What are you guys doing out here?" she asked with a frown. "Is Ross ok?"

"He's, uh, in there with Emily," Monica winced, hating to be the one that broke this to her roommate.

"Oh," she seemed surprised. "Well, I guess that's good news right?" she tried to sound cheerful. "At least he's found his wife."

Chandler winced and let Monica untangle from him so she could offer her friend a hug. He watched them and sighed. He still felt really bad for what Rachel was going through. It just didn't seem to end.

"Wanna wait with us?" Monica gestured to the floor and she nodded.

Rachel settled on the opposite wall, facing Chandler, pulling her knees up and hugging them. She rested her head against the wall and looked deep in thought. Chandler was a little grateful though, when Monica settled down back beside him, automatically his arm went over her shoulders in silent support.

A silence filled the corridor as the three each contemplated the dramas of this weekend.

"Hey guys!" They looked up as Joey came bouncing down the hallway, a big grin on his face. "What's going on? Am I missing something?" He asked, sensing the drama.

"Ross is in there with Emily," Chandler informed him.

"Oh right," Joey nodded before sitting next to Rachel.

It was then Chandler noticed he was eating something which looked suspiciously like a piece of random bacon. He wasn't the only one to notice.

"What the hell are you eating?" Rachel asked, her tone not amused.

"Bacon," he shrugged happily, "I grabbed it off the buffet cart when I realized none of you were at breakfast."

"But that's meat, Joey," Monica pointed out. "What about Phoebe?"

"She said I could," he shrugged easily.

"What? When?" Monica asked and Chandler wondered if she was worried by her phone bill again.

"This morning," he informed her. "She said she wasn't craving meat anymore, so when I asked if I could eat it again, she said I could because I was the most well-behaved person this weekend. Yeah me!"

Chandler wrinkled his nose up as Joey took another bite of the bacon, ripping off a piece with his teeth. It wasn't pleasant.

"Did Phoebe say anything else? Is she ok?"

"Yeah she's fine, she phoned to say my agent called I've got an audition tomorrow and guess what the part is?"

He was so excited that even Rachel looked a little happier and Chandler sent a silent thanks to his roommate for unknowingly lightening the mood.

"Are they giving you a second chance at being a butt-double?" he asked innocently. Joey glared at him as Monica chuckled. He rewarded her with a peck on the top of her head.

"Noooo, but it is in a movie."

"Wow, a real movie?" Rachel asked. "Like with film stars?"

"Uh huh."

Chandler raised his eyebrows impressed, pleased things were working out for his friend

"So what's the part?" Monica asked.

"A London cab driver, called Angus. How cool is that? I'm in London right now! I've been in a black cab this weekend. This is so meant to be. It's fate." He said that last bit in weird fake British accent and Chandler screwed his nose up.

"You may want to work on that accent, Joe," he pointed out. "Maybe try speaking with some more British people while you're here."

"Yes!" Joey nodded excited, snapping his fingers and pointing at him. "That's a genius plan."

"Well I try," Chandler joked.

A silence settled over them again.

"So, how long has Emily been in there?" Joey asked looking towards the door. "Should I go check on him?"

"No, give them space," Monica insisted, checking her wristwatch. "They've been in there almost an hour."

"We've just gotta wait to see the outcome," Rachel murmured, that sad look on her face again.

Joey put his arm around her, seemingly understanding her sadness. Chandler look down at Monica in his arms, she had that sad look on her face too. It was all so horrible and he hated it. He hugged her closer and brushed a kiss in her hair determined to do whatever he could to make this easier for her.

Silently the four friends sat in the hallway, comforting each other and readying themselves to comfort another.

* * *

TBC...

Thanks again for all the reviews! It took a little longer to update as I was at an actual London wedding this weekend. The groom managed to say the right name. Yeh!

Please let me know what you thought of this chapter :o)


	12. Give him a pipe to smoke all night

A/N - thanks for all of you that have reviewed this story - each have been a great motivator. Please continue to let me know what you think :o)

* * *

The door to the honeymoon suite suddenly opened, causing four pairs of eyes to snap to it. A lone figure emerged. Emily. It was clear she'd been crying, possibly still was. Her whole demeanor was one of sadness and instantly Chandler's heart went out to her. What was meant to have been the happiest time in her life clearly wasn't.

She wheeled her suitcase out and then froze, looking up and seeing them all for the first time as they scrambled to their feet. She took a deep breath and walked closer to them.

"I guess it's good he has you all to look after him," she murmured. She sounded weak and exhausted, a different person to who they'd met back in America. "I suppose this is goodbye," she continued, confirming their fears.

He felt Monica tense and he offered a reassuring hand on her back as she stepped around him to face her 'soon to be a stranger' sister-in-law.

"I'm sorry," Monica offered and pulled her into a brief hug. Emily stayed fairly rigid in her embrace but her face showed she was grateful for the small attempt at comfort.

"Thank you," Emily almost tried to smile before turning her gaze to all of them. "Thank you for letting me into your little group for a short while. Take care of yourselves."

They all offered her similar sentiments as she turned and left. They watched her roll her suitcase until she disappeared around the corner and out of their lives.

Chandler turned to look at Rachel, trying to decipher the emotions on her face. Sadness tainted with hope. Love. He tried to think of something to say but was pulled from his attempts as Monica headed determinedly into her brother's room. As much as he wanted to comfort Rachel, to make up for yesterday, his priority had to be Monica right now. She was upset and needed to be there for her brother. And he needed to be there for _her_.

As he turned to follow he saw Rachel and Joey also heading in. He decided to hang back for just a second.

"You ok?" he whispered as Rachel came close to him.

"Yeah," she whispered back, pausing slightly so Joey could enter the room first, leaving her outside with Chandler. "I'm not gonna jump the guy straight after this…but this gives me my bit of hope. I can talk to him, I can offer to wait, let him know what I feel...I don't know...there's hope for the future and that's enough right now."

He smiled and pulled her into a brief hug. He knew from experience how much difference that little piece of hope could make. No matter what happened between his two friends, this way they would have a chance, if they both wanted it.

"Come on," he murmured pulling her through the door way.

They had to help Ross right now and try to find a way for him to find _his_ little piece of hope in this moment of darkness.

The man in question was sitting on the large couch, looking the exact opposite of hopeful. He looked completely in despair as Monica sat next to him, a hand on his back and arm, trying to comfort him. Why couldn't this weekend offer just one moment when all the friends were happy together? It felt so cruel the way it kept offering hope to one of them whilst ripping it from another. It was horrible that one of the best things to ever happen to Chandler in his life, happened in the middle of all this pain and anguish. Some silver-lining.

"It's over," Ross announced, as they all gathered around the couch, forming a small half circle, a protective bubble against the world. "My marriage is over."

They all murmured their condolences.

"She wants a divorce?" Rachel asked. To her credit she sounded only concerned for her friend, no traces of excitement or happiness leaking through.

"We're going to look into whether we can get an annulment," Ross informed them, pain evident in his voice. "We talked and talked but the bottom line is the trust is gone. She can't trust me and doesn't want our marriage to be like that and I agree. Neither of us want her to be one of those wives that has to know where her husband is 24/7 and know who he's hanging out with. She doesn't want to be controlling and doesn't want to be married with no trust. It would never have worked. We haven't really known each other long enough to have the strength to move past this, so we both agreed it's for the best. There's no point trying to drag it out if the foundations aren't there. It would just make it harder, more painful."

He sighed heavily and Monica squeezed his arm as a sadness settled over the room.

"I'm sorry, Ross," she offered.

"Thanks," he sighed. "It's all just so surreal...I can't actually believe this is happening."

"Is there anything we can do, buddy?" Joey asked, clearly gutted for their friend.

"No, I don't think so," he shook his head glumly. "I just want to go home, you know. Go back to New York and see Ben and spend some time with him. See Phoebe and mom and dad and just try to remind myself that what I have is pretty good."

They all nodded in agreement until Ross' face changed suddenly. Uh huh.

"Man, I can't even do that!" he realized, sadness merging into frustration, "I don't have a plane ticket home. I'm gonna have to go to the airport and change my ticket and then be put on some standby list, probably for hours. Who knows how long it will be until I get a seat? I just want to be home. I don't want to be in this stupid country anymore."

Chandler studied his friend for a moment before his gaze fell and settled on Monica. He had been looking forward to the 6 hour flight, being next to her and getting to hold hands; to be able to get to spend some alone time before they got back to the chaos of every day life. Then they'd get to start the new chapter in their lives and he'd get to experience being her boyfriend. Spoiling her rotten and reaping the rewards.

He couldn't wait to begin his life with her.

But, he knew Ross' need to escape, he understood it only too well. He had felt it a couple of nights ago, the need to be comforted by home. He'd majorly let Ross down this weekend and this was the one thing he could do to try and help. He didn't hesitate.

"Take my ticket," he said, causing everyone to look at him.

"What?" Ross asked after a beat.

"Take my ticket," Chandler repeated, "that way you'll be on a flight to New York within a couple of hours."

Silence.

"Really?" Ross eventually asked, still unsure. "You're serious?"

"Sure," he shrugged easily, "I've got the rest of the week off work anyhow, so I can wait around. Hey, I can keep Rachel company at the airport...it feels like ages since we've hung out and talked," he joked lamely, before turning to look seriously at Ross,"just take the ticket Ross, you should be at home, with your family."

Another moment went by and Chandler watched his friend and waited.

He didn't have to wait long. The first genuine smile, in what felt like days, slowly spread across his slightly-stubbed face.

"Thanks man, that's so...I can't believe you'd do that for me," Ross stood up and enthusiastically clapped his shoulder.

"It's no problem," Chandler promised smiling, his eyes shooting to the other Geller.

She was looking at him with gratitude but also with a small hint of regret mixed in. He offered her a small smile and a nod of understanding; she must have been looking forward to starting this thing too. Still, a few hours or days wouldn't make that much difference. He'd waited a long time for this to happen. He could wait a little longer. He was a patient man.

"Why don't you swap with me, Mon?" Rachel suddenly suggested, her eyes communicating all kind of things that she wasn't verbally. "I'll go back with Ross and comfort him and then you can hang around with Chandler. Hell, you don't even have to stay in the airport, you could always spend a couple more nights in romantic London before heading back."

Chandler rolled his eyes, well aware of what Rachel was trying to do. Just because she wanted to spend some time with Ross didn't mean Monica had to be pushed aside. Monica was great at giving advice and would be a rock for her brother. He also resisted pointing out that he'd already paid for 2 hotel rooms this trip, his and Joey's flights, no doubt a hefty phonebill courtesy of Phoebe and now, on top of all that, he had to pay for changing his flight. He could do without paying for extra holiday days.

"Hey," Ross suddenly said looking between Chandler and Monica, "why don't you guys go to Greece?"

Huh. He hadn't expected that.

"What?" they asked in unison.

"Why Greece?" Joey asked confused. Opps, looks like neither of them had paid much attention to Ross' wedding plans.

"What was meant to be my _honeymoon_ ," Ross clarified. "It's all paid for."

"What?" Rachel asked, pissed that she was missing out on a free trip to Greece.

"What are you talking about?" Monica asked confused.

Chandler decided to stay quiet and let the siblings sort this out between them for the moment. It would be safer that way.

"I think you should use my tickets, both of you," he insisted.

"Are you serious? It's your honeymoon, Ross."

" _Was_ my honeymoon, Monica," he corrected, "Look, I'm happy that you guys have got together, I am, but right now I could do without it being in my face. Go to Greece and be all lovey-dovey as much as you wanna be...without me having to see it."

That certainly held some appeal.

"But don't you want to go and clear your head and take a break?" Monica asked gently.

"No," Ross shook his head adamantly, "I just wanna go home."

Chandler watched as Ross' eyes fell to Rachel for a moment before settling back on Monica. He was sure there was something there in that look. Maybe Rachel was Ross' little bit of hope? Sure, it would take Ross time to heal from all this but if he had Rachel, maybe, just maybe, he had a chance at his own silver-lining.

"But don't you want us with you?" Monica asked softly. "I don't want to leave you when you're going through something like this."

"I'm a big boy and it's just a week. Besides, I've got the others," again his eyes flicked over to Rachel for a fleeting second. "Honestly, go, have your honeymoon stage in Athens. Please? It seems a shame for it to go to waste and it can be a thank you for letting me and Rachel have your plane tickets."

Chandler watched as Monica worried her lip before looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. He gestured towards the bedroom and the privacy door and she nodded.

"Two minutes," she told the others as they entered the bedroom, closing the doors as firmly as they could, given their fliminess.

"So?" she asked as she turned to face him. "What do you think?"

Chandler shrugged slightly.

"I'm tempted," he admitted. "A week with you in Greece?" He smiled endearingly, his hands coming to rub her upper arms. "That would be simply amazing."

"It would be nice to have some privacy as we adjust to this," she considered. "A week with no nosey friends, no dramas, just us…" he could tell she was warming to the idea, as her hands came to rest on his chest. "But I don't have anything to wear. I packed for _London_ weather, not Athens."

She always seemed to have her practical head on.

"I wouldn't have a problem with you being naked the whole time," he winked cheekily, leaning in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on his. She returned the kiss, her arms moving around his neck as she pressed herself against him. God, he could get used to this.

"Gross! You're meant to be talking, not doing _that_."

They broke apart to face Ross. Opps.

"Sorry," Chandler mumbled, though he wasn't at all. He didn't think he could ever be sorry for kissing Monica. It just felt so right, _so_ good..

"Did you talk at all?" Ross questioned.

Um...

"Yep," Monica promised as he nodded, "we're going to Greece!"

Chandler couldn't help but smile. A week in the sun with Monica; this had real potential and he couldn't wait.

"Great," Ross smiled, oviously pleased. "And thanks again for letting us use your tickets home. I _really_ needed this."

Chandler nodded in understanding as Monica pulled her brother into a hug. Moments later Joey and Rachel entered the bedroom.

"So?" Rachel asked coming to stand by Chandler. "What's the verdict?"

"We're going on a little vacation," he confirmed grinning from ear to ear, before lowering his voice, "and you get to have Ross all to yourself to sort out stuff."

She let out a relieved breath, "thank you," she smiled pulling him into a tight hug.

"No worries," he promised in her ear. "I glad it's working out for both of us."

She nodded against his shoulder, glad to have a second chance.

"I wanna hug," Joey suddenly protested loudly.

He came to stand inbetween the two hugging pairs, putting one arm around each, turning it into what could only be described as a weird group hug. They stayed like that for a long moment.

It was Monica who pulled away first.

"Right, well we better all get ready," she suggested. "Is everyone packed?"

"Um…"

"Joey!" she scolded.

"I'm going, I'm going," he muttered, rolling his eyes and throwing a pointed look to Chandler before leaving the room. Chandler just grinned happily. He knew she was going to be high maintenance, but he loved it.

"You've got 15 minutes Tribbiani!" she called after him before turning to her next victim. "Rachel?"

"Don't worry, I'm packed," she promised, "I really didn't come with much, it was sorta spare of the moment."

"I'm glad you came," Ross admitted quietly.

Chandler watched the looks passing between them.

"Wanna help me with the bags?" Rachel asked Ross pointedly and he happily agreed. "See you guys out front in a bit."

He watched them leave before Monica turned to him and he automatically smiled as he embraced her. He leant down so their foreheads were touching.

"I'm packed," he informed her softly and she chuckled just as softly.

"You barely took anything out of your suitcase," she pointed out to which he shrugged slightly, still grinning stupidly. God, he was so happy. He couldn't believe how much could change over one weekend.

"You know," he murmured, almost conversationally, "we have 15 minutes to spare and an empty honeymoon suite..."

"We can't do that!" she laughed, knowing exactly what he was suggesting.

"Why not?" He questioned, pressing forward and capturing her lips with his. His hands seductively started to stroke her back as he deepened the kiss.

She pulled away a fraction.

"What about the others?" she breathed against his lips.

He couldn't resist claiming her lips again in another passionate kiss.

"If they walk in on us, we'll have a week to get over the embarrassment," he pointed out inbetween kisses.

Hearing no further protests, he started walking her back towards the bed. His hands fumbling with her clothing, feeling her doing the same.

As they tumbled onto the unused sheets, Chandler reflected once again about this crazy weekend they'd experienced in London. It had been a rollercoaster with dramatic highs and equally dramatic lows. Tears of sadness combined with tears of happiness and joy. He would never have predicted it would turn out like this. Never.

Monica giggled beneath him and he beamed down at her, knowing instantly that it was all worth it. Every moment of it. Even that night of pure hell that had broken his heart and tortured his soul...he'd voluntarily live through it again, a hundreds times more, if it meant he got to have _this;_ got to have _her._

Her. Monica.

Despite everything, his memories of London would be happy ones. Very happy ones.

Now, they just had to make some happy memories in Greece...

* * *

TBC...

Well that's the last proper chapter. But the chapter titles wouldn't be complete without a 'My Fair Lady' epilogue. I'm almost finished writing it and can confirm it's pure sappy Mondler mush.


	13. My fair lady

A/N – Thanks for all the amazing reviews and for all of you that have stuck with this story. After much debate I've decided to split the epilogue into two parts mainly due to its length. It isn't designed as a two-parter but hopefully it still works ok. The other half is written and just needs tidying up and whatnot, so hopefully it will be up in a couple of days...

* * *

Epilogue Part 1

Chandler quietly stepped out onto the hotel balcony spotting Monica instantly. He walked up behind her, wrapping his arms around her petite waist and rested his chin on her shoulder.

They stayed that way for a moment as they both took in the peaceful landscapes of Greece that surrounded them. The sun was just starting to set over the city. It was so beautiful.

"You ok?" he finally broke the silence.

"Yeah," she sighed quietly, leaning back gratefully into his warm embrace, "I just can't believe the week is practically over; it's gone so fast."

 _Too_ fast, he silently corrected as he tightened his hold on her; he'd fast come to love the feel of her in his arms. It felt so _them_ , so _right_.

"I know," he murmured gently into her ear, before letting out a little sigh of his own. He was just as gutted as she was that this was their last night here. It had been one helluva week.

"You know," she mused softly, "It feels like just yesterday we were checking in…"

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– day one/~_

"Wow," Chandler commented as they entered the hotel and took in the impressive lobby, "Ross picked good."

"Yeah," Monica agreed wide-eyed, taking in the large reception space. It was huge, magnificently decorated with high tapestry ceilings where a large chandelier hung down as the grand center piece. It was all so beautifully elegant.

"Madam? Sir?" The bell-hop questioned from behind them where he pushed the luggage cart, "the front desk is just this way."

"Right, sorry," Chandler offered the other man an apologetic smile. He'd make sure he tipped well.

Wrapping an arm around Monica's shoulders, they walked leisurely across the marble floor. They approached the large shiny mahogany desk, where they were greeted with an equally large shiny smile.

"May I help you?" The receptionist asked politely.

"Uh, reservation for…Geller?" Chandler asked glancing at Monica who nodded in agreement. They doubted Ross would have called and changed the reservation, nor that it would have been in Emily's maiden name.

"Certainly Sir, just one moment please," she started to type his details into the computer.

Chandler nodded easily, taking another look around the place. Ross had done very good indeed. He still felt a little guilty he was on his best friend's honeymoon but Ross had been the one to offer it to them; it was now _Chandler's_ job to ensure they enjoyed it and made the most of it.

"Ah yes!" the enthusiasm in the receptionist's voice brought his attention back to her quickly with a frown. "Mr and Mrs Geller, congratulations on your marriage."

Ah. He threw a quick look at Monica who was trying not to laugh. She was failing, badly.

"Yes…uh, thank you," Chandler nodded hurriedly, more than a little uncomfortable. It wasn't worth correcting them now and risk confusing things. Besides, it was better they called _him_ Mr Geller opposed to _her_ Mrs Bing. It was too early in this relationship to let Monica's imagination run wild; _way_ too early.

"We're so honored you decided to stay at our hotel for your honeymoon," the oblivious woman continued.

"Oh, there was simply no other choice," Chandler grated as he pasted a fake smile on his face, simply hating this.

"It looks so amazing," Monica jumped in and rescued him.

"Thank you, Mrs Geller," the receptionist beamed proudly before returning her attention to 'Mr Geller', "now, if I could ask you to just sign this and this" she handed him some paper forms she'd printed out and a pen.

"Sure," he signed without reading, just eager to get away from this uncomfortable conversation.

"I can see you're eager to get to your room," she smiled, misinterpreting his speediness and making him grimace. "Kolos will show you and your lovely wife up to our honeymoon suite."

Honeymoon suite?

Chandler froze. He should have expected that being Ross' honeymoon and all, but he hadn't. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

"It sounds delightful," Monica promised, running a comforting hand up his arm. "Doesn't it, hubby?"

He narrowed his eyes, throwing a mock-glare in her direction. She was enjoying this too much.

"Fantastic," the receptionist nodded. "I trust everything will be to your satisfaction but don't hesitate if there's anything we can do to make your stay more memorable. Have a lovely time Mr and Mrs Geller."

"Thanks," Monica smiled, tugging Chandler to follow 'Kolos' into the large mirrored lift.

He could never understand why every lift maker in the world seemed so obsessed by mirrors. What was the point of them? They never made the cart feel any bigger. All they did was bounce the hideously bright lights into your eyes and made it impossible to direct your gaze anywhere that didn't either blind you or land upon a stranger. Thankfully, the only stranger was the bell-hop who remained silent with his eyes discreetly straight ahead.

He was surprised when he felt Monica's hand reach down and grab his own, causing him to look over to her. She met his eyes, simply smiling as her fingers threaded through his. He smiled back, squeezing her hand slightly, loving how her eyes sparkled in the bright lights. She looked almost radiant. Huh. Maybe the lighting thing wasn't so bad after all.

The cart came to a gentle stop and they followed Kolos out and down a large corridor. They passed various green plants and random statues until they reached a red door. He unlocked it and pushed it open, gesturing for them to enter before him.

They walked in together, hands still entwined and froze. Wow. Ross had done _extremely_ good.

There was a large four-poster bed dominating the room, with a delicate canopy elegantly draped over it. Rose petals were scattered across the white crisp duvet. A bottle of wine was cooling in an ice bucket on the bedside cabinet with sparkling wine glasses just waiting to be used.

Through the open balcony doors there was a stunning view of Athens.

Just wow.

"Is there anything I can get you before I leave?" The bell-hop asked.

Chandler blinked, spotting for the first time that the bags were now on the floor. He hadn't even noticed the guy unload them.

"Um, no, thank you, it's um great," Chandler stuttered, reaching into his pocket to grab some Greek drachma, handing over some notes to the man.

He hadn't quite got his head around the local currency, especially as he'd had to convert his leftover English money, but the man seemed extremely pleased. He'd probably tipped him a small fortune but Chandler didn't care; he was a happy man right now and happy men tipped well. Very well.

The well-tipped man left with another 'thank you' before Chandler turned and pleasantly found himself with an arm full of Monica.

"Isn't this fantastic?" she asked, her eyes still sparkling with excitement as her arms slipped around his neck.

"Uh huh," he murmured, completely captivated by her.

"I can't believe we get to spend a whole week here."

She pulled him down for a kiss and he willingly went. He closed his eyes as her lips touched his, lightly caressing at first and then becoming firmer. The kiss deepened as she pressed body hard against him. He tightened his embrace as he felt her hands in his hair.

"You know what else is awesome," he told her as they came up for air. "This will be the second honeymoon suite we've had sex in today. That's pretty cool."

"Sure is," she smiled, placing teasing little kisses on his soft lips, "it beats all my previous records."

He chuckled, doubting she'd had any honeymoon suite records before earlier. With his arms tightly around her, he started to move them towards that large four-poster bed.

"Well," he suggested, as they reached the edge, "let's see how many other records we can break tonight," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

"Sounds good," she quipped, pushing him backwards to land on the large rose-covered sheet.

Any response he had was silenced by her lips.

 _~/End of Flash-back/~_

* * *

"It's gone quick," Chandler agreed against her shoulder.

"I know," Monica grinned, as a gentle breeze played with her hair, making it tickle his cheek. "I can't believe we didn't even make it out of the hotel for the first two days."

"Hotel?" Chandler chuckled dirtily, "You mean the bed?"

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– day two/~_

"Room service!"

They pulled apart instantly; nothing like a knock on the door to act like a giant bucket of ice-cold water.

"Crap," Chandler muttered, before raising his voice, "I-I'll be right there!"

He frantically jumped out of the bed desperately searching for anything he could throw on.

Monica just giggled.

"You're not helping," he grumbled at her, but he was smiling too much for it to seem like a complaint. He finally located some sweats and a tee on the floor and hurriedly shrugged them on.

"Relax," Monica told him humorously. "It's our _honeymoon_ remember. I'm sure they've seen much worse."

He groaned, rolling his eyes as he approached the door. He threw her one last look to ensure she'd covered up enough before opening it and greeting the hotel staff.

"Hi, sorry about that I was just…" he trailed off realizing there was absolutely no convincing excuse he could come up with.

"Not a problem Mr Geller," the man practically winked as he wheeled the dinner cart through into the room. "I'm a married man and have been on honeymoon myself."

"Rrrright," he knew he was blushing fiercely.

"Is there anything else I can get you or your lovely wife?"

"No, that's great…um," he patted his sweats realizing he had no clue where his wallet was. "Um," how could he tip the man without his wallet? His eyes desperately searched the hotel surfaces. Had he even taken it out of his jacket?

"No problem, Mr Geller," the man smiled in understanding, "just leave the cart outside when you are finished." He went to leave but turned back, lowering his voice for Chandler's ears only. "Also, if we're interrupting next time, feel free to ask us to leave your food outside."

"Ok, thanks," he winced, as he quickly shut the door behind the man. "God, that was embarrassing," Chandler groaned as he stripped quickly. "Next time we order room service I'm gonna get changed and wait by the door ready."

Monica just laughed, getting out of the bed and walking over to him. He swallowed as their bodies touched and she leant up to kiss him long and hard, reminding him exactly what they had been doing before they were so rudely interrupted.

"What about the food?" Chandler protested weakly as he felt himself getting led back to the bed. He needed stamina if they were gonna do more of _that_ ; this record breaking stuff was hard work.

"Dessert first," she murmured as she pushed him back onto the bed and climbed on top of him.

Needless to say, a lot of time passed before the finished plates were left outside for collection.

 _~/End of Flashback/~_

* * *

"Although, I did take you out to see a few sights," he considered.

"That you did," she agreed, her hands covering his where they were settled across her tummy. "It was nice to see some of the most famous sites in Greece."

"Yes, I feel extremely cultured and all grown up," he joked.

"Really?" She smirked, "You acting grown up? That's not how I remember it…"

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– day three/~_

"My God," Monica breathed, taking in the sights that surrounded her, "this is just breath-taking. Just astonishing."

"Yeah," Chandler agreed, somewhat lost for words himself.

They had managed to pull themselves out of their hotel room and visit some of the ancient history that Greece was bathed in. They were standing in Acropolis, taking in the old ruins; they were simply magnificent.

Walking hand in hand they dodged the many crowds of tourists as they leisurely walked around the citadel. Chandler leant against a rock, sunglasses in place as he waited patiently as Monica snapped away at every available angle with her camera. She looked so focused as she concentrated on getting the perfect picture. A cute frown was etched upon her forehead and her teeth worried her lower lip. Oh that lower lip…

He pulled his attention away from his girlfriend and away from the direction his thoughts were taking. They'd be back in their hotel room within a few hours and he could do all sorts of things to her then. Just a few hours. With a shake of his head he turned to the tour brochure in his hand, flipping it over.

"Hey Mon," he got her attention.

She raised a questioning eyebrow, recognizing his tone and the cheeky smile instantly.

"What?" she asked suspiciously.

"Check this one out," he pointed to a shiny page, "it's called 'the Erechtheion'," he started sniggering, "it was used to worship King Erechtheus…wait until I tell Joey about this."

She smiled, shaking her head fondly and pulled him down for a quick kiss, "never change," she requested.

"As you wish," he kissed her back, his smile widening. "So did you get some good photos?"

"I hope so," she grinned, her fingers stroking the front of his shirt lightly. "I mean the views from up here are amazing. I thought the view from our hotel couldn't be beaten but I was _very_ wrong."

"Monica Geller admitting she's wrong? No wait, _very_ wrong?" he joked, laughing as she whacked him lightly.

He pulled her into an apologetic hug, his smile almost at breaking point. God, he couldn't remember the last time he felt this happy and relaxed. A few days spent in Greece was certainly having a positive effect on him. He gave her another light kiss which she happily accepted.

"There's another photo I want, though," she informed him.

"Sure," he shrugged easily. "Here or another part?"

"Here," she confirmed. "I want one of us together."

His smile became softer, his eyes crinkling in the corners, "I'd like that too," he swallowed, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She smiled back, caught in the same spell for a moment. The start of any relationship was always exciting and sweet, but with Monica it was a whole other level.

"Let's go ask someone," she finally broke out of their embrace.

He watched as she looked around excitedly and tugged him eagerly in the direction of a lone tourist.

He obediently let himself be dragged along. He wrapped his arms around her as instructed and happily posed for numerous photos throughout the afternoon. He didn't complain once at the number of photographs she wanted. No matter what temple or monument they posed in front of he knew every photo would have something in common.

His very genuine and very goofy grin.

 _~/End of Flashback/~_

* * *

"I'm always grown up," he tried but she couldn't help but let out a little laugh in response, "hey," he protested good-naturedly, loosening his embrace so he could turn her to face him.

"Sorry," she murmured against his lips, "of course you're grown up. Very mature, in fact you may be the most mature man I know."

"Ok, now I know you're lying," he grinned, leaning forward to capture her lips. "Besides, I was the one that suggested Acropolis. You chose the beach."

"I didn't hear you complaining," she pointed out. "You seemed to quite enjoy it."

Oh he had, eventually.

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– day four/~_

Chandler swallowed as he watched her remove her shirt and skirt, leaving her in the skimpy red bikini as she settled onto the beach towel. She looked over at him and smirked at his dropped jaw.

"Come on, your turn, Mister," she raised an eyebrow as she pointedly ran her eyes over his body. "Off with them."

He closed his eyes, controlling his breathing.

"I, uh, I was gonna leave my shirt on," he confessed with a self-conscious shrug, "this is me beach ready."

"What? Why?" she protested looking confused.

He winced. He'd hoped she would just drop it but should have known better. She knew him too damn well.

"No one's gonna wanna see my pasty chest," he admitted to her in that self-decrepitating tone he used too often for her liking, "trust me, it's better for everyone on this beach if I leave my clothes _on_."

"Hey," she frowned, getting back up and coming to stand in his personal space. She gently ran her hands up the said chest, her fingernails tracing little paths. She knew he was always a little self-conscious of his body but he really shouldn't be. Having spent the last few days getting intimately acquainted with naked Chandler, she knew he definitely had nothing to be ashamed of. She looked at him, waiting until he met her eyes, " _I_ wanna see that pasty chest," she grinned quietly, continuing to trace the front of his shirt. "In fact, I happen to hold that chest in very high regard."

He swallowed.

"Really?" he grinned a little shyly.

"Uh huh," she promised, still drawing random comforting patterns across it and unknowing driving him crazy. "It's easily my favorite chest on this planet."

"Yeh?" A crooked smile started to tug at the corner of his mouth.

"Oh yeah," she smiled widely, placing a gentle kiss on his lips, one he happily accepted. "Definitely my favorite chest, no contest. Now, you can keep it undercover if you feel the need to, but personally, I think that would be a mistake, because I really _really_ wanna see that chest."

He bit his lip indecisive. She could see his thoughts running across his handsome face.

"Please," she tried the puppy dog look that he perfected so well. "I've been looking forward to putting sun lotion on it."

His face changed and she had to hide a smirk. He was so easy.

"Sun lotion?"

"Uh huh, I bought a big old bottle," she informed him, a glint in her blue eyes. "I thought I could rub it all over that sexy chest of yours, you know use lots of it and really rub it in…and then I thought maybe you could return the favor…"she trailed off trying to look innocent.

He groaned as tortuous images ran through his mind. Damn, she didn't play fair.

"You're a mean woman." He grinned, already reaching for the bottom of his shirt.

"I know," she agreed happily, as she helped to remove the offending item of clothing. She turned towards him and went slightly more serious for a moment, running her hands across his bare chest. "You've got nothing to hide, Chandler," she promised, "you look fantastic."

He still looked doubtful so she pulled him in for another kiss. Trying to convey without words how much he meant to her.

When they pulled away his eyes were sparkling with gratitude. "Right then Ms Geller," he smiled, "Where's this sun lotion I was promised."

She giggled, pulling him down onto the towel.

 _~/End of Flashback/~_

* * *

 _TBC..._

 _Let me know what you thought :o)_


	14. My Lady Lea

Epilogue part 2

Unable to resist, Chandler leaned forwards and captured her soft lips. His arms slid around her petite waist as he pulled her tighter against him. Lips caressed lips as they both melted into the kiss. As it deepened, he felt the now familiar desire course through his veins and he pulled her even harder to him. As the intensity increased he was desperate to get as close to her as possible.

He felt her fingers start to unbutton his shirt, her hands burning the skin she uncovered. He groaned at the sensations her touch was evoking within him. His own fingers were eager to return the favor, reaching for her top…

"Is that the phone?"

"Huh?" Chandler blinked, confused as Monica stepped away from him and out of his embrace.

"Our phone's ringing," she informed him amused.

"So?" he protested, anything but amused, "ignore it."

His protests fell on deaf ears. She was already heading back into the room and Chandler realized it was too late to try and convince her not to answer it.

"The only people with our number are the gang and my folks," she reminded him gently, still smiling at his frustration. "It could be an emergency."

"It better be a damn emergency," he muttered under his breath.

She threw him one last amused look before lifting the receiver. He stayed sulking in the doorway, partly outside to get some much needed fresh air, yet still able to comfortably listen in on this 'emergency'.

"Rachel! Hi," Monica greeted, no traces of frustration. "Is everything ok? Uh huh? Yeah? Really? That's so great that you've talked to him; so what happened?"

Chandler groaned and rolled his eyes, doubting very much that this was in anyway an emergency. To his dismay he watched as Monica settled onto their large bed, making herself comfortable. Sure, she hadn't gossiped with Rachel for almost a week...but they would be home tomorrow. What possibly could be so important that it couldn't wait until then?

"I'm really pleased for you both. Yeah, we're having the _best_ time, Rach" he could hear the joy in her voice and couldn't help but smile despite his annoyance. They _were_ having the best time. "We've been to lots of places. Yeah, it's got a great nightlife here. We've gone to a few bars…."

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– day five/~_

"Is this seat taken?" Chandler grinned cheekily as he spotted her sitting alone at the bar.

Monica turned and smiled up at him, her sapphire eyes sparkling, "Actually it is."

He raised a questioning eyebrow, faltering, not taking the empty barstool or the obvious bait.

"I'm saving it for my 'husband'," she continued with a smirk.

"Ah," he grinned, sliding his hands into his pants pockets, rocking back on his heels slightly. "Anyone I know?"

"Maybe," she teased. "You may have seen him around...you can't miss him; he's the cutest guy in the place."

"Is that right?" He smiled somewhat proudly.

"Uh huh," she boasted, "and not only is he good-looking but he's witty, charming, funny, smart."

"Yeh?" He beamed, "he sounds like tough competition for us mere mortals."

"He is," she agreed, "most guys don't stand a chance against him…although," she ran her eyes slowly down his body, " _you_ I might consider; you certainly look cute enough."

He laughed, bending down to offer her a peck on the lips, before settling onto the stool beside her. The bartender approached and he indicated he'd have whatever Monica was having.

"I thought you were becoming teetotal?" she reminded him.

"I'm on my 'honeymoon'," he pointed out in a teasing tone. "What are we drinking by the way?" he asked looking more carefully at the colorful cocktail that was in front of her; it came complete with not one, but two, bright pink umbrellas…huh, maybe he should have ordered a more manly drink.

"Sex on the beach," she grinned impishly.

"Yeah?" he grinned back, wiggling his eyebrows and lowering his voice, "Isn't that what we did yesterday?"

She laughed, remembering just how touchy-feely they had gotten yesterday. Damn that sun-lotion.

He grinned back, knowing exactly where her thoughts were heading. Moments later his own colorful drink arrived, thankfully minus the umbrellas. He nodded his thanks to the bartender as he tried it tentatively.

"Hmmm," he approved as the alcohol teased his taste buds, "this is nice. You have good taste, babe."

She blushed slightly at the 'babe' comment, a little thrill running through her. He hadn't called her that before, but she liked it; liked it a lot.

"That I know," she recovered, her hand patting his cheek playfully.

They stared at each other for a moment just smiling dopily. Both very glad that they were having this vacation without the rest of the gang. They could be as sappy and as OTT as they wanted without any witnesses.

"So," he ventured, taking another sip, "Any ideas about what you wanna do tomorrow?"

"I want to get a braid," she announced.

He blinked at her over his fancy cocktail.

"A braid in my hair," she clarified, swishing the said hair slightly.

His eyes flicked to her hair then back to her happy face.

"Oh," he shrugged. He still had no idea what she was talking about. "Ok...say, what's a braid?"

She rolled her eyes and he was pretty sure he heard a mumbled 'men' under her breath.

"Well," she said a little louder, "it's when they take a small piece of your hair and wrap different color cottons around it."

He frowned, not looking entirely convinced.

"Trust me, it looks really pretty," she insisted. "It's very European."

"Right," he tried to sound enthusiastic, "I'm sure it will look lovely."

He really didn't understand hair fashions but it sounded okish. At least it wasn't anything too weird or, god forbid, cornrows or something. He shuddered slightly at the thought. He loved running his fingers through her soft hair and planned on doing it often; he didn't want anything getting in the way of that.

"What about you?" she asked, causing him to pause and look questioningly at her.

"I don't think a braid would really suite me," he quipped and she rolled her eyes as her hand dropped down to casually rub his thigh. That casual touch got his full attention.

"Maybe blonde tips?" she suggested and he chuckled shaking his head.

No way in hell.

"I don't think so," he shrugged almost apologetically. "My hair doesn't really suite holiday souvenirs. It's happy staying American."

"Fair enough," she smiled, finishing her drink and ordering another for each of them.

"Trying to get me drunk, Geller?" he teased, he'd only taken a few sips of his first drink.

"Uh huh, you've gotta play catch up," she informed him with a smile. "We're on vacation and I wanna see you on that dance floor with me."

He groaned, "I'm gonna need a _lot_ more than two cocktails if you wanna see me dance."

After many cocktails and alcoholic beverages later, she dragged a happily tipsy Chandler onto the quiet dancefloor. He swayed slightly, vaguely in time with the music as she danced around him, occasionally grabbing his hand and letting him twirl her.

He wasn't a natural born dancer; far from it. Anyone could see that, but he didn't care if he looked like an idiot...

At least he was a happy idiot.

 _~/End of flashback/~_

* * *

"It's been going great with Chandler," Monica informed her roommate, looking up and meeting Chandler's gorgeous eyes. "Absolutely amazing."

He smiled at her, thinking the same thing as he slowly entered the room and approached the bed.

"Yeah he's been really romantic, Rach. I know! He's spoilt me rotten."

He grinned, she deserved to be spoilt rotten. He perched next to her on the bed, his hand grabbing her free one and absently playing with her fingers as she talked.

"He's got a really sweet romantic side," she smiled happily, causing his heart to skip a beat. "Well, we went out for dinner…"

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– day six/~_

"I'll be right back with your drinks," the waitress smiled.

They offered matching smiles of thanks in return as she disappeared out the back.

"This place seems lovely," Monica commented, looking around the quiet restaurant once more.

Tonight's chosen dinner venue was just off the beaten track, so it wasn't full of noisy, over-excited tourists. It gave off a relaxed and friendly vibe…just what they'd been craving. Monica in particular was looking forward to sampling as much authentic Greek cuisine as possible.

"It's a little different to Alessandro's, huh?" Chandler teased.

"Worlds apart," she agreed. "It just seems so fresh and clean and open here…if that makes _any_ sense."

"It does," he promised, reaching across the table to take her hand, his thumb gently caressing her smooth skin, "there's something about it being _here_ …with the fresh air and beautiful scenery… it carries through into the restaurant. I don't think you could replicate this in the middle of New York City, no matter how hard someone tries."

Monica nodded thoughtfully in agreement as the waitress returned with their drinks.

"You are from New York?" she asked overhearing.

"Yeah," Monica nodded, "we're here on vacation."

"Are you enjoying your stay?"

"Very much," Chandler promised. "It's such a nice country. It's a shame tomorrow's our last night here."

"What do you do back home?" she enquired.

"Well, I'm a chef-"

"Really?" she seemed a tad too excited by this news. "Andreas will be delighted to meet another chef. He does love to meet all his customers when he is able but another Chef! Let me go fetch him."

With that she disappeared again and Monica raised her eyebrows in surprise at Chandler who just grinned. Everyone here seemed so friendly that it didn't really surprise him; they were worlds away from New York. He watched as a middle-aged man approached, a white apron tied around his waist and a large smile on his face.

"Kalos eerthate," the man greeted them in Greek before easily switching to English, "welcome to our little restaurant. We are delighted you have chosen to join us and try our fine food. You will not be disappointed, I promise. We are the best restaurant in the whole of Greece."

Chandler grinned; the man had a big personality but he liked him.

"Sophia tells me you are also a chef, yes?" he asked as Monica nodded enthusiastically, "and you, sir?"

The man looked hopefully at Chandler and he cringed, almost sorry to disappoint the man.

"I'm a statistical analyst," Chandler deadpanned, not surprised as Andreas' smile turned into a confused frown. "Don't worry; it's even more boring than it sounds."

Chandler pulled a face and Monica patted his hand reassuringly.

"Would you like to see the kitchen?" Andreas offered Monica. "See how we prepare the food here? Learn a few Grecian secrets?"

"Are you serious?" She almost gasped.

Chandler couldn't help but smile at the pure excitement that lit her face. She turned and looked at him in wonder, her blues eyes bright, "would you mind? I don't wanna leave you-"

"Go," he ordered with a crooked smile, "have fun."

In response he got the full force of her blinding smile directed at him and she reached over to kiss his cheek. He grinned goofily as he watched her walk away, hearing her excited chatter continue even after she'd disappeared from view. It was great that she was so passionate about her profession, but poor Andreas, he wouldn't know what hit him.

"You make a sweet couple," Sophia commented, causing his smile to widen further.

"Yeh?" he asked almost shyly. He liked that. No one else had really expressed their opinions on them…well, besides Rachel's vomit comment when she caught them making out in the hallway in London. God, that felt like a lifetime ago.

"You seem very happy together," she observed, "you know here in Greece we have many different words and expressions for what you Americans call 'love'," she smiled before excusing herself to greet an elderly couple who entered.

He blinked. Love? It was a little too early for that but they were very very happy together, he thought as he leant back in his chair. This was easiest the happiest he could remember being in his adult life, hell, probably in his entire life. He was still waiting to wake up and discover that this was all a dream. Discover that none of this was real and that in reality, he was actually passed out drunk as a skunk somewhere on a cold London street as people stepped over him.

This whole week had simply been perfect. Being in a relationship with Monica, getting to experience all the little coupley things she liked. Getting to kiss her and hold her hand and just be close to her whenever he wanted. It was beyond amazing.

And, to know that she was just as happy being with him, that she was enjoying this thing between them just as much, really was the icing on the cake. As clichéd as it sounded, he felt like he was on cloud nine and it turned out it was rather quite nice up here and he wanted to stay floating as long as possible.

"Hey," he blinked in surprise as Monica slid back into her seat. He hadn't realized how much time had passed whilst he was day-dreaming. God, he definitely had it bad. "Their kitchen is amazing, Chandler and he even showed me some of his recipes, one of which came from his Grandma, which I so need to try when we get back home. It was so fantastic and sorry, I'm babbling aren't I? I hope you weren't too bored?"

"Nope," he placed his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his hand as he gazed at her. Taking in her sun-kissed skin, her raven hair (complete with Grecian braid) and that ever-present smile that was constantly growing. If only Phoebe could see their auras now; she'd be so pleased. "I like your babbling, besides no need to apologize, I was entertaining myself thinking of you."

She chuckled, ducking her head slightly embarrassed before looking up and meeting his eyes, "good thoughts I hope?"

"Always," he promised, "I can't believe how amazing this week has been. Hands down, it has to be the best first date ever."

She laughed, her eyes shining, "mine too," she agreed. "I've been on some fun first dates before but I would never have wanted any of them to have lasted a week. In a way I can't believe it's only been a week. I mean, a week ago you were just my friend Chandler, my _best_ friend Chandler," she corrected, "but still just a friend. I can't believe how much has changed in a week and how right it all feels."

He nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. It had been so natural going from friends to lovers. Like they had meant to take that next step in their relationship. He'd expected some element of weirdness to creep though but as of yet, it hadn't. It just worked.

"It's gonna be strange going back home," he admitted. "Having to face reality and nosey friends, who no doubt will want lots of vivid details."

"You mean the girls," she chuckled. "I can't see Joey wanting all the little details. Once you tell him you got to do it on a beach, he'll be happy. And, I don't think Ross is going to want _any_ details of _any_ kind."

"True," he mused, he hadn't really thought about it. "It's gonna be kinda weird not talking to Ross. I mean, don't get me wrong, we're guys so don't talk loads about this kinda stuff, but we've talked about girls since college; not that there's been many mind you. But he's always given advice and stuff."

"Like the hug and roll," Monica chuckled as Chandler pulled a face at her.

"You haven't tried that with me, right?" she suddenly asked.

"No," he promised with a soft smile. "I can't seem to get enough of you," he reached out again taking both of her hands in his. "At the risk of sounding extremely mushy and I'm probably risking losing my penis badge here, but I can't get close enough to you. I love falling asleep with you in my arms."

She was smiling brightly at him, his words causing her heart to flutter. Sure, it was early days, very early days and she knew that, but at the same time she knew that whatever this was, it was simply spectacular. Whilst she didn't want this magical week to be over, part of her was looking forward to going home and starting their new lives together.

In a way it almost felt like an actual honeymoon.

 _~/End of flashback/~_

* * *

"We're looking forward to seeing you all tomorrow," Monica promised. "How big is Phoebe now? Wow, I can't say I'm missing her mood swings."

Chandler sighed, a little bored. As much as he loved their friends, he could wait until tomorrow to catch up with them. This was his and Monica's last night here after all. He didn't want to interrupt though if it was important...

"Of course we got you souvenirs," he heard Monica say and he frowned; souvenirs? Seriously? That definitely didn't sound worthy of the phone bill or cutting into their sex time for. "We got the last ones this morning…."

* * *

 _~/Flash-back– day seven/~_

"Ok," so Monica glanced at her newly acquired bags which Chandler was obediently carrying, "we've got a couple of lovely necklaces for Rachel and Phoebe."

He nodded. If Monica thought they were pretty then he was sure the other girls would like them too. They just looked a little weird to him but what did he know?

"Ben's got the cuddly bear," she continued.

He nodded again.

"You found Joey that stupid hat."

"Joey will love it," he interjected.

He'd laughed when he'd seen the large fabric hat complete with the Greek flag. It reminded him of the London hat and figured Joey would get the reference.

"I'm sure he will," she soothed, reaching up to place a kiss on his lips. "So that just leaves Ross…"

"Hmm…"

They stood there in silence for a moment contemplating their dilemma. What did you buy the man whose honeymoon you went on? A wish you were here postcard? A Greetings from Sunny Greece fridge magnet?

Time seemed to stretch.

"We could always just pack up all the free stuff from the hotel," she suggested.

Chandler raised an eyebrow.

"Trust me," Monica assured, "he loves stealing things from hotels and as he kinda paid for it, he'll probably appreciate it."

He shook his head.

"We aren't stealing stuff from the hotel," Chandler protested.

"Fine," Monica shrugged, "you think of something then."

"He's your brother," he complained.

"And he's one of your best friends," she shot back.

Damn.

"Ya know, the quicker you think of something," she innocently informed him, "the quicker we can go back to our hotelroom and pick up from where we were this morning…"

Memories of this morning, combined with her tone and the seductive smile that she shot his way, were almost enough to get him to agree with the stealing hotel toiletries idea. He couldn't quite bring himself to do it though.

"I've got it!" He snapped his fingers excitedly. "Dinosaurs. We'll get him some dinosaur crap."

"You're a genius," she smiled, landing another kiss on him. "Oh wait," she frowned, "that would mean having to go to a museum and whilst I know there's one not too far from here…do we really wanna spend time going around one on our last day?"

"We could just do the gift shop?" He suggested.

Her smile spread across her face, "pure genius," she corrected, planting another firm kiss on his lips, grabbing his hand and pulling him after her.

He _was_ a genius.

 _~/End of flashback/~_

* * *

Monica was still chattering away with Rachel and Chandler was beyond bored and was becoming more than a little impatient. This was their last night together, just the two of them and he shouldn't have to share her. An evil little plan popped into his head and he grinned slightly to himself.

He leant down, placing a kiss on her shoulder. She turned slightly towards him and smiled. He kissed her again, before moving to that spot of skin on her neck that he'd learnt quickly was a favorite of hers. He pressed his lips against it pleased when he felt her shiver and lean back against him, angling her neck so he had better access.

He smirked, kissing that spot again, lingering there and letting his teeth scrape gently. She sighed audibly and the hand that had been playing with her fingers, moved and started stroking up her arm.

"That's great, Rach, uh huh, hmmm."

He loved that he was distracting her. He continued kissing and teasing her neck and shoulders as he listened to her struggling to hold her end of the conversation.

Wondering how much he could get away with, his other hand joined in the action, landing on her thigh. He loved these short skirts. His fingers danced over the skin, as he kissed up her neck to her free ear.

"Hang up," he whispered quietly, as his hand moved slightly higher. His other hand left her arm to hover over a breast.

"Rach, I've gotta go," she said breathlessly, "C-chandler needs me."

He could hear Rachel's protests as she threw the phone down and turned fully in his arms. Attacking his mouth fiercely as her hands roamed over his body, none-too gently tugging at clothes and he welcomed it all. Returning her passion with just as much force.

They were going to enjoy their last night.

He knew things would be different back home. This time tomorrow Greece would just be a memory and they'd be back in New York. They'd be surrounded by their friends, who he'd missed, but he also knew would be watching them curiously. They'd be center of attention no doubt, although he held some hope that Ross and Rachel's situation plus Phoebe's pregnancy might take the spotlight off them somewhat.

He didn't know whose apartment they'd stay at tomorrow night or whose bed they'd be sleeping in. He didn't know what routine they'd settle into once they got back to work and caught up with their friends.

But despite all the uncertainties, he knew one thing. No matter where they were, London, Athens, New York, as long as he was with her and she was with him, then he was happy.

Very happy.

* * *

A/N – And that's it! I want to thank you everyone that has read and reviewed this fic along the way. It's been beyond amazing to have so much support. When I first wrote this and told my husband about it I remember saying that it started by making people think Joey and Monica were together and there was no Mondler interaction until about chapter 5! I didn't think anyone would read it.

So a huge thank you for proving me wrong. I hope the epilogue has been mushy enough to make up for the start.

Please drop a final review to let me know what you thought of the ending or of the whole thing. All feedback is really appreciated.

Thanks again :o)


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